


Rosy Skies

by Jellyfish_Tacos



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: AU, Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Anxiety, Arranged Marriage, Death, Depression, Doomed Love, Eating Disorders, F/M, Hair Braiding, Haircuts, Little Mermaid Elements, Long-Haired Otabek Altin, Long-Haired Victor Nikiforov, Long-Haired Yuri Plisetsky, M/M, Magic, Mental Health Issues, One-Sided Attraction, One-Sided Relationship, Pain, Prince Otabek Altin, Prince Yuri Plisetsky, Renaissance Era, Royalty, Sacrifice, Sad Ending, Shark tails, Sorcerers, Spells & Enchantments, Tongue Cutting, Underwater, Unrequited Love, mermaid, otayuri - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 01:21:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11956731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jellyfish_Tacos/pseuds/Jellyfish_Tacos
Summary: When Prince Yuri goes down from his mountain home to the ocean as a coming-of-age ritual, he rescues a merman from a pair of poachers. As time passes, he finds that he can't get the merman out of his mind and he ends up making a rather rash decision.(Reverse Little Mermaid Au)





	1. Daybreak

Curled up in bed, Yuri listened intently as Viktor animatedly recounted his trips out to sea. At five years old, Yuri still had another thirteen years ahead of him before he would even be allowed to venture out to the beach. He was bursting with excitement, hardly able to contain himself. How on earth could he be expected to wait that long? He wished that he could just be all grown up already so that he could experience the ocean for himself.

For the time being, however, he would simply have to make do with his cousin’s vivid descriptions. 

Yuri could glimpse the glittering water through his window, but he had never stood on the actual shore. He oftentimes let his imagination run wild, picturing what types of creatures might flourish in the ocean’s depths. He frequently ate fish, so that part wasn't too difficult, but Viktor spoke of beasts with eight arms that had suction cups on them! Yuri was in awe. How could such a creature exist? 

Viktor also told him about aquatic plants with wavy tentacles, giant fish with sharp teeth, and colorful slugs that inched over the frilly reef. What intrigued him the most, however, were the tales of the merpeople; Yuri liked to picture what it would be like to swim among them underneath the glittering waves. 

As much as Yuri loved hearing his cousin’s stories, his eyes were slowly sliding shut. Viktor's words gradually came to a gentle halt. The last thing that Yuri felt before he drifted off was a soft kiss pressed onto his forehead.

“Goodnight, Yuratchka.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time Yuri was around twelve years old, he had slowly become withdrawn. He hid his loneliness with a brash exterior. The only people that he confided in were Viktor and his beloved grandfather. They seemed to be the only ones that could empathize with what the weight of royal responsibilities on someone's shoulders felt like. 

Yuri was expected to be the next king, but he had no desire to be a leader.

“Just let Viktor be king,” Yuri would grumble, always prompting firm lectures from his grandfather about how the monarchical system worked. Because Viktor was Yuri's cousin on the other side of his family, he would only ascend to the throne if both Plisetskys died. 

Which was a shame, because the pressure of ruling a country was the last thing that Yuri wanted.

The only time that he was able to find some peace was when he was in his garden. Although he would never admit it out loud, he loved his little plants. Every day they seemed to grow stronger and taller, extending towards the azure sky like they were reaching up to heaven. 

A little stream cut through the land, and a weeping willow hung over it like a guardian. Its peridot tendrils brushed against the water, and the current tugged at them tenderly. In the shade cast by the tree, tiny daisies poked out of the grass. 

Along the creek, amethyst-hued irises gently swayed in the breeze. Patches of sapphire and diamond chamomile looked up at the sun with their little yellow heads. An arch stretched over the stone pathway leading down from the palace, and ruby-colored roses twined up it. 

Yuri spent hours there, sometimes from dawn until dusk. He would gladly kneel in the dirt, even if it was sweltering, and lovingly tend to his flowers. He yanked up weeds that threatened to strangle his plants, and nourished them with fertilizer and water. Sometimes he sat on the bank and cooled his feet in the stream while reading a book. 

“Your skin's going to tan and you'll look like a commoner!” people always berated him. Yuri didn't care in the slightest. In fact, he would often intentionally position himself in direct sunlight to spite them. Little freckles dusted his face like stars, garnering strange looks in court. They didn't seem to appreciate the poetry held in them. 

Every other aspect of his life was controlled, so if this was what freedom cost, he was going to have as many damn spots as he pleased. All of the rules and regulations that he was supposed to adhere to were stifling, threatening to snuff out his light of individuality and choke him to death. 

Still, he tried his very best to rebel against what was expected of him. Instead of putting on the elaborate and pinchy footwear that was fashionable, he went barefoot as much as possible. Grime frequently smudged his hands and cheeks, and his torn clothing bore fresh grass stains. Instead of being neatly trimmed at his hips like Viktor's was, Yuri's hair hung to his thighs and was still growing. 

However, just because Yuri refused to cut it didn't mean he wouldn't complain about how tangled it got on his adventures on the grounds. Taking pity on him, Viktor spent many a night working a comb through all of the knots in his cousin's golden hair. As he did so, he would sing lullabies or tell stories about the ocean. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the years, Yuri's curiosity about the sea had diminished. After all, why would he want to go down to the beach when he could be spending time in his garden? He mostly brushed aside the strange tug that he felt occasionally when he'd see the water from his bedroom window. It was inconsequential, he told himself. Like it or not, his fate was laid out before him. He would become the king, even if he didn't want to. 

Viktor gradually spent less and less time with Yuri, and by the time Yuri was fifteen, the storytelling had ceased altogether. He wondered if his cousin, who he’d regarded as a brother, simply didn't like him any longer. Eventually his sense of longing for the way things used to be hardened into a sense of bitterness and betrayal. Whenever he saw Viktor walking in his direction, he would glare at the floor and ignore him. 

Yuri suspected that Viktor was seeing some lady, and was opting to spend time with her instead. He found himself hating her, despite the fact that they'd never met. It was obvious that Viktor didn't care about him anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~~

On Yuri’s sixteenth birthday, Viktor didn't even stop by to say hello. A servant did deliver a small package and an envelope, but Yuri didn't open either of them. 

Instead, he slumped onto his bed and petted his cat. Left alone with his thoughts, his mind wandered to the pressures of what being king would be like. Clenching the sheets in his fists, his anxiety mounted. Stressed, he pulled the covers around himself and fell asleep, tossing and turning the whole night.

The next morning, Yuri was informed by a frantic servant that Viktor had eloped. With a man. The minute he found out, Yuri fled to his room and tore the letter open. He felt his heart tear in half at the same time as the blue wax seal. 

The letter was a goodbye. 

Infuriated, Yuri crumpled the parchment into a ball and threw it across the room. ‘Trust Viktor to not think things all the way through,’ he thought, eyes brimming with furious tears. He wept for hours, until his ducts ran dry. His eyes were incredibly sore and puffy. He collapsed onto his canopy bed, stomach and chest aching, and fell into a deep sleep. He was completely drained of energy.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The next year dragged by terribly. Viktor sent him an unmarked letter now and then, but Yuri refused to read any of them. How could he just leave him like that, without any warning? How could he let Yuri lose one of the only two people that he actually loved and trusted? 

Seventeen-year-old Yuri was even more reclusive than his sixteen-year-old self had been. He had always been slender, but he soon grew sickly thin. He just didn't feel motivated to eat, although his grandfather begged him to do so. 

To make matters worse, Nikolai Plisetsky's own health was steadily failing. It seemed that age was finally catching up to him. Whether it was his trembling hands, his incessant coughing, or his stumbling steps, it was an unspoken truth that his time was slowly running out. The grains of sand in his hourglass continued to slip. 

Yuri felt helpless. It was as if he were drowning in everything that he was expected to live up to, and he just needed someone to throw him a rope. 

Nobody did, although his grandfather tried.


	2. Sunrise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri goes down to the beach and saves a merman from two poachers who want to sell his parts on the black market.

By the time he was eighteen, Yuri had nearly forgotten about the coming-of-age rite of passage entirely. It was just another tedious task to cross off of the list of things he was obligated to do. As Nikolai prepared him, Yuri asked for the dozenth time if he really had to go. He just didn't see a point.

His grandfather sighed. 

“It's a tradition as old as our country itself, and will help you gain some perspective,” he told Yuri firmly, but lovingly. Yuri scowled, but bit his tongue. He would endure this for his grandfather’s sake. 

A crown of woven daffodils, chamomile, and sunflowers was placed on his head, the yellows complimenting his flaxen locks. His hair was plaited into a complicated array of braids, some curving over his head and others looping under his ears. They were many different types; a few fishtail, a few with five strands, and a few with four. The braids were pulled into a twisted bun in the back, held in place with a wooden pin, and then tumbled down around Yuri's shoulders. The lower half of his hair was left loose, falling to his knees in soft blonde waves.

Wearing fur-lined clothes, he was prepared to face the sea winds and the cold night air of March. His cloak was embroidered with golden flowers, vines, and flowing shapes; it reminded him of his precious garden, where he would much rather be spending his birthday. 

Nikolai took his arm and guided him to a rarely-used side door in the castle so that he could leave without notice. This was a journey meant to be undertaken alone. The king placed a kiss onto his dear grandson’s forehead and squeezed his hand before letting go. Yuri thought he might have seen a proud tear glistening in his grandfather's eye as he turned to leave. 

He pulled his hood over his head as soon as he was out of sight, and he wrapped his heavy robes more tightly around his body. 

The path down to the shore was long, steep, and winding, and Yuri couldn't entirely see his feet because the branches above him were blocking out the moonlight. He kept tripping over rocks and roots and the trailing hems of his own ostentatious garments, mumbling obscenities every time he did. 

Crickets loudly chirped their songs, making their presence known even though they couldn't be seen. Yuri jumped when he heard an owl hoot somewhere behind him. He turned around and glared into the darkness; he could have sworn he heard a wolf howl as well, and he hoped that he had been mistaken. The wind shifted the trees, and it sounded as if they were whispering to each other.

Just when he thought that the trail would never end, Yuri found that the forest was growing sparser. The terrain declined sharply, carving a crude path down the cliff. Carefully, he edged his way down. His boots offered some traction along the loose earth, but he kept slipping and having to grab branches to not plummet down. He ruefully felt a flash of pity for whoever had to launder his clothing after this escapade. 

With a gasp, he fell down the last foot and landed jarringly on the beach. The wind pushed his hood off of his head and tugged at his hair. The strong scent of salt, seaweed, and brine filled his nose. The sand felt incredibly foreign under his shoes, and he kicked some of it up. Particles blew into his eyes and he furiously rubbed them away. 

He took a few steps back and looked up, eyes still burning. High, high above, on the slope of the mountain, he could just make out the shape of his castle and village. They seemed so very far off now, shrouded in fog. He turned around and watched the waves lap against the shore. He couldn't really say that he was impressed. It was just the same view from his window, but closer. 

Yuri heard a shout, and he jolted. Quickly, his head whipped around in the direction of the noise. In the distance, he could make out two figures struggling with what looked like a creature of some sort. He started moving towards them, but got the feeling that something was dreadfully wrong and broke out into a sprint. His feet met resistance in the drifts of sand, but upon reaching the damp sand he was able to quicken his progress. 

Yuri could now see what was transpiring, and nausea rolled over him. He snarled as he saw two men pinning down a merman, who was thrashing wildly. His thick tail smacked against the ground. His muscles bulged as he attempted to escape, but he was overpowered. The gills on his neck heaved rapidly as he fought to breathe. 

One of the men held a cloth up to the mer’s mouth, and although he shook his head to try and dislodge it, he was forced to take a breath through his mouth and his body went limp. 

One of the poachers (Yuri was now sure of their identity) grabbed the merman by his long, dark hair and lifted him up. They were going to slice off the mer’s fins and hair to sell on the black market, then dump him back into the sea to die. Anger boiled inside of Yuri, but he waited for the right moment to attack. The man procured a knife, gleaming cruelly in the moonlight, and held it up to the creature’s hair. Yuri couldn't hold back and do nothing any longer. With a scream of rage, he drew his shashka and charged forward. How fucking dare they? 

He caught the first man by surprise, the one that was preparing a sack to place the stolen goods in. He was swiftly stabbed in the back, the blade coming out the other side of his chest. With a yell of agony, he collapsed. The spurting blood appeared black under the dim lunar light. 

Yuri felt sick to his stomach, but if he gave up then he would surely perish. The other man smirked and narrowed his eyes.Fury coursing through his blood, Yuri lunged forward. The man quickly stood, holding up the slack merman as a shield. The large tail dragged like dead weight. 

Yuri stopped, the point of his sabre mere inches from the mer’s chest. He tried again, aiming for the poacher’s head, but was simply blocked once more. The man laughed at him, light eyes glittering.

Yuri tried to shove down his emotions in order to focus, but it proved harder than he had expected. His opponent had drawn his blade, an épée bearing an extravagant handle, and was brandishing it--a challenge. Something in Yuri's head clicked, and he leapt back into action. While the other man was larger, his movements weren't as fast (especially carrying the bulky merman). If Yuri could just be agile enough...

The swords clanged together as the man blocked, sparks flying. Suddenly, Yuri whirled around. His shashka landed in the poacher's side with a dull thud. A scream cut through the air, and the released merman slumped to the ground. Hastily, Yuri moved the slippery creature behind him so that he could protect him. The poacher sneered, clutching his fresh wound.

Yuri wanted to dispatch him. Oh, how he wanted to. Instead, he decided to exhibit some mercy and chivalry. 

“Leave!” he commanded, using a royal tone. “And never come back!” 

The man roared and made a final, desperate move to attack Yuri. He was promptly impaled, his eyes rolling back as the life drained out of them. Yuri jerked his blade out of the corpse and turned away from it, breathing heavily. There was no grass to wipe his weapon on, so he dried the blood with his cloak. He sheathed his sword and then dropped to his knees to examine the mer.

The merman didn't appear to have any external injuries besides a few minor abrasions. The air got caught in Yuri's trachea. The mer was the most beautiful thing that he had ever beheld. His hair spilled around him like ink, sand sticking to the wet strands. Yuri tucked it behind his pointed ear. 

He seemed almost like a marble statue. The bridge of his nose was long, straight, and broad, not at all like the ones belonging to the people of Yuri's nation. His skin was darker than Yuri's, resembling the tan of a Mongol. His jawline was so sharp and angled that Yuri found himself reaching out to brush his fingertips along it. When he realized what he was doing, he pulled back like he'd touched a hot iron. 

Gills slowly opened and closed on the merman's neck, and his torso gave way to a massive tail that seemed like some type of shark’s. He was grappling to inhale and exhale, his throat making ragged, shaking sounds. 

Yuri guessed that the merman’s weak human lungs wouldn't last much longer, so he began to haul him towards the water. It was no easy task, considering how much the mer weighed, and how lean Yuri was. Eventually the merman's head and upper body were submerged in the surf. Yuri was calf-deep in frigid waves, his cloak and boots soaking wet. His teeth had started chattering the moment he'd entered.

Stiffly, Yuri pulled the merman as far in as he could before the icy water became unbearable. He dashed out, footsteps splashing noisily. Not about to leave the merman there, alone and helpless, he ducked behind a rock to wait for another mer to come looking. 

Hours passed, and Yuri had to move to the shelter of other boulders as the tide came in. As the sky began to lighten, he heard a shriek. Heart pounding, he peeked out from behind the craggy, barnacle-encrusted rock to see a head peeking out of the water.

It was a mermaid, and she must have noticed the unconscious merman. Her crystal-blue eyes were widened in alarm, petal-pink lips parted. Long, scarlet hair adorned with pearls pooled around her. She dipped under the surface, and Yuri squinted to see what was happening. 

It appeared, from her blurry shape under the churning water, that she had wrapped her arms around the other mer's waist and was tugging him away and into the depths. Occasionally, her reddish-gray and white-spotted fins slipped over the waves. 

And just like that, the two of them were gone. 

Yuri relaxed a bit, knowing that the merman was in safe, webbed hands. He trudged for hours up the steep slopes, exhausted and water-logged. He would surely have blisters. His flower crown, though in rough shape, was still perched on his head. 

The next morning, a fisherman stumbled upon the bodies of two notorious poachers.


	3. Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri can't seem to get the merman out of his head, and his health begins to deteriorate. Desperately, he seeks a solution.

To his frustration, Yuri couldn't seem to forget the merman. It seemed that he was constantly floating through the back of his head, tormenting him with his dark eyes and quiet expression. 

Yuri's eating habits grew even poorer than before. He became unhealthily frail and thin, hardly able to swallow a bite because of his nausea. He couldn't seem to get any sleep either, and when he did manage to, it was restless and shallow. 

His grandfather soon took notice of the purple shadows under Yuri’s eyes, the way that he hardly touched his meals, and how he rarely went to the effort of changing his clothes. Concerned, Nikolai inquired what Yuri had experienced on the beach that had affected him so. Yuri just muttered that it was mostly uneventful, and that he was perfectly fine. 

He could tell that Nikolai didn't buy it, but was relieved that the matter wasn't pressed any further. As much as he disliked lying to his grandfather, what was he supposed to say? That he felt ill because he couldn't stop thinking about a captivating man he had rescued; one that wasn't even the same species as himself? 

No. Instead, he told nobody about the events of that night. Having the mer’s face ingrained into his mind was bad enough, and he didn't want to relive the final moments of the two men that he had killed. Their deaths weighed on his consciousness like lead. Although Yuri tried to remind himself that they would have left the merman to die and would have probably killed him too, he couldn’t quell the guilt he harbored in his belly. Sometimes, he had horrific nightmares in which he relived the incident, crimson blood dripping down his sword and pooling in the sand. 

Even spending time in his garden barely gave him any solace. It had always been a sanctuary where he could relax, but now he found it impossible to gain some peace of mind. Yuri felt too sick to tend to his flowers properly, and his garden soon fell into ruin in spite of his best efforts. Instead of reaching toward the heavens, his weed-choked plants drooped and wilted. The rose vines overran the arch they were climbing up, twisting their tangled tendrils tightly around it. The pathway filled in with tall, sharp grass. 

Suddenly, the place that Yuri had loved most in the whole world had become foreign. 

Eventually, Nikolai convinced his grandson to allow a physician to examine him. Yuri begrudgingly accepted, if only to make his grandfather happy. The doctor called it “a most peculiar case.” He diagnosed Yuri with malnourishment and sleep-deprivation; however, both of those were merely symptoms. The cause remained a mystery to everyone besides Yuri himself. Although he was partially in denial, he knew exactly what the problem was. The physician suggested that Yuri should try and get some rest. ‘Wow, thanks,’ Yuri thought bitterly. 

Once the doctor had left, Yuri could hear him speaking to grandfather in hushed tones. He didn’t catch everything that they said, but he did make out the words “die soon” and “nothing I can do.”

Yuri knew that he was correct, and the reality of the situation was terrifying. He kept having dizzy spells, clinging to banisters to keep from toppling over. Something needed to be done, but he had no idea what or how. Once again, he found himself utterly helpless. 

Every single day, he made his way down to the beach in hopes of seeing the merman; he never did. There weren’t even tell-tale abnormal splashes or the glisten of scales. He began to worry that the mer hadn’t survived. The thought was driving him crazy, gnawing away at him. 

Yuri began desperately poring over the volumes in the royal library in search of a solution. Out of more than a hundred dusty tomes, he found nothing. Sometimes he’d think that he had found something that would work, but, on closer inspection, found it completely useless. 

Eventually, Yuri started going over Viktor’s old books. Most of them had silly little doodles on the margins of the worn, dog-eared pages. Viktor had drawn mostly fluffy animals, flowers, and a young man who kept appearing in the newer volumes. Yuri snarled in disgust. That was the person who had stolen Viktor from him, he was sure of it. However, his expression softly melted into a smile as he fondly recalled his dear cousin. 

In a book of Greek poetry that was in particularly bad shape (it appeared that it had been dropped into the river on multiple occasions and then set on fire), he spotted something that caught his attention. There was a note scribbled on the corner of a page that read, “Go to Yakov for a spell!” The words were underlined and circled darkly, as if Viktor was trying not to forget. Yuri wondered when the note had been written, but he had no way of knowing. He couldn’t help but feel curious about who this Yakov character was. Perhaps a sorcerer? Yuri narrowed his eyes in thought. Perhaps this “Yakov” could procure some sort of solution for him? Possibly, he could make him forget about the merman entirely… At this point, Yuri was willing to do pretty much anything. If he didn’t, death wasn’t far off. 

The note left no indication as to how to contact Yakov or where he lived, but Yuri had a feeling that he knew a person that could provide additional information. Viktor’s close friend, Christophe. 

As it turned out, it didn’t take long to find him. Christophe was in the kitchen as usual, flirting with the cook. When Yuri walked in, he looked up with a casual smile gracing his face. 

“Look at you, up and about,” he remarked. Yuri was not amused. 

“Could I--” He swallowed angrily. “Could I speak to you for a moment? In private?” 

“Of course.” Chris grinned and winked at him. 

Yuri’s brow furrowed, and he growled under his breath. 

“No need to make that face, I’m coming.” Christophe stood up from the kitchen stool he had been reclining on. He placed his hand on the chef’s cheek and kissed him before whispering something in a low voice into his ear. From the shade of red that the cook turned, Yuri guessed that it had been disgustingly obscene. Chris blew another kiss in farewell before following Yuri out into the passageway. 

“Shouldn’t you be cleaning up horse shit or something?” Yuri grumbled. 

“Ah, I already did that. Thought I’d take a break and help with dinner.” 

“Yeah, I’m sure that your assistance was invaluable.” 

“Most definitely.” They arrived at a tucked-away alcove and came to a halt. “What was it that you needed me for?” Chris fluttered his dark eyelashes teasingly. 

“I had a question about Viktor,” Yuri mumbled. 

“What was that?” Chris cupped a hand (which was a lot smoother than one would expect to belong to a stable-boy) around his ear. Yuri repeated himself at a regular volume, but Chris repeated his request. 

Agitation growing, Yuri yelled the same words at him a third time, voice reverberating off of the empty stone walls. 

“Ooh!” Christophe responded, faux-enlightened. 

Yuri glared at him, trying to reign in his frustration. 

“Enough of this!” he hissed. “Do you know a man by the name of Yakov?” 

Chris’ olive-green eyes went wide for a second, before he caught himself.

“Why do you want to know?” he asked, cool and reserved. 

Yuri was silent, unsure of how much he was willing to divulge. 

“I need help,” he finally replied, intentionally vague. Christophe snorted. 

“That much is obvious,” he told him, blunt but not malicious. He folded his arms and looked Yuri’s thin body up and down. Yuri colored. 

“Hey!” He reminded himself to stay calm, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. “Just tell me where he is,” he demanded, teeth gritted together. 

“You need to give me a genuine reason first, darling.” Chris’ tone had a facade of lightness but was hard as iron underneath. 

“Fine!” Yuri snapped. He glowered at the ground, hair covering half of his face. He recounted his tale with deliberate vagueness, glossing over the fact that he had killed two men and how his heart hammered away whenever he thought about the merman. Yuri hadn’t wanted to divulge the story to Christophe, but he feared that it was his only option to get more information on Yakov.

“Hm…” Christophe put his index finger to his lips, a gesture that painfully reminded Yuri of Viktor. He used to do the exact same thing, and the memory of it made his heart ache. “Well, it seems to me that you’re… infatuated.” The last word sensually dripped from Chris’ lips like golden honey. Annoying golden honey. 

“That’s ridiculous!” Yuri exclaimed, furious. He had barely even mentioned the merman, and Chris was making absurd assumptions. 

“Hm.” Chris smiled knowingly, and Yuri wanted to punch him. 

“You said that you’d give me Yakov’s address!” he blurted out, changing the subject.

Chris sighed. “Very well. I’ve never actually been there myself.” His bun slipped, and he undid it. He tossed his deep brown hair, and action that called to mind the manes of the horses that he cared for. He stuck the pin in his mouth, and started to twist it up again. “All I know is that he lives somewhere in the cliffs by the sea. Hard to get there unless the tide is most of the way out,” he explained through the pin, distracted. The information was not the best, but it would have to do. Christophe finished fiddling with his hair and waited there, looking at Yuri expectantly. 

“What?” Yuri grumbled, irritated. 

Chris cleared his throat politely. 

“Oh. Thank you.”

Chris flashed his teeth and turned around.   
“You’re welcome!” he called as he walked away. Yuri was left alone, leaning against the wall and pondering a plan of action. He decided that he should probably go and scout around the cliffs to see if he could find the sorcerer’s cave. 

Later that week, Yuri trekked down to the shore once again. The journey seemed to be getting more strenuous every time he made it, and he had to lean against the rock face when he got to the beach in order to steady his spinning vision. The cliffs were angled so that the farther down the beach from where Yuri was standing, the higher the waves crashed at the shore. When the tide was all the way in, the far end of the precipice was half-way submerged underwater. At the moment, however, the tide was all the way out. A section of gravelly sand skirted the base of the bluffs. 

He picked his way along it, watching out for rocks plummeting down the cliffs from above. He went quite a long way, but couldn’t see any variations in the craggy wall. Just when he was about to give up, he noticed an out-of-place, massive boulder. It seemed like it had been strategically placed there, not like it had fallen down. It was nestled underneath an overhang. Mustering every ounce of strength that he had, Yuri pulled it aside. It was certainly not an easy task, considering how frail he had become. Inch by inch the huge stone shifted, making a grating sound against the sand. Finally it was out of the way, and the yawning cave that it had been blocking was revealed. 

Quietly, Yuri ventured in. He had to duck down to clear the ceiling, he himself being nearly six feet tall. He squinted in the darkness, and could make out a steep set of stairs that curved around a corner and out of sight. Beyond it, he could see the flicker of firelight. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that this was the right place. 

Yuri stepped back into the daylight and pushed the rock back in front of the entrance. He would return, once he got an opportunity to leave the palace for a long time without notice. Heart pounding in his rib cage (from fear or excitement, he wasn’t sure), he started the arduous hike back up to the castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you thought <3 This chapter is one of my favorites, but the next one is my absolute favorite.


	4. Mid-Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri goes down to the cave by the sea to speak to Yakov, the sorcerer, in hopes of finding a solution to his predicament.

The perfect night to go and see Yakov presented itself. That evening, a ball was to be hosted at the palace. Almost everyone in the entire noble court was to be present, and the party would be the perfect distraction for Yuri to slip away unnoticed. The servants began setting up before dawn, arranging ostentatious flower displays to drape over feasting tables. A rainbow of gossamer silk banners stretched over the ballroom ceiling, shimmering in the firelight. All of the doorknobs and hinges shone, and the marble floor had been polished until it was as reflective as a mirror. Huge torches rested in silver sconces along the hallways, illuminating the massive paintings hanging on the walls. 

They were mostly portraits of the royal Plisetsky family, of whom only Nikolai and Yuri remained. Most of the people featured in the pictures looked rather grumpy. Yuri often wondered if that was simply due to the fact that they’d had to remain still for hours or if it was a hereditary trait. 

Guests began to trickle in, wearing their finest clothing. One by one, they approached the thrones where Yuri and his grandfather were sitting. They would bow or curtsy, and both royals would dip their heads respectfully. Yuri began to develop a sharp ache in his stiff neck. 

Finally, all of the company had been acknowledged. 

The music began, and hired dancers emerged through the grand main doors to entertain the guests. They wore vivid red accents, a symbol of beauty. 

Nikolai leaned in to Yuri. “Why don’t you go and sit closer to see better?” His worried, tired eyes were pleading. Yuri knew that his grandfather was desperate to see him happy. For his sake, Yuri would move to watch with the audience. Once the music stopped, he reluctantly stood and went down the steps. Each movement felt jarring on his skull. Everyone looked up to stare at the strange boy who didn’t resemble a proper prince with his freckles and frail body. He shot a few glares into the crowd and plopped down onto a velvet chair beside the dance floor. 

While the dancing was beautiful, Yuri wasn’t really impressed. He had seen this very routine on many occasions, and it was no different this time. The dance began slowly, with the men and women whirling around each other. They waved their fine scarves and kicked their feet. 

Without warning, his head began to spin and his vision became blurry. He felt as if he was about to faint. The bright colors of the performers’ clothing blended together in a nauseating display. The end of the song couldn’t come soon enough. When it eventually did, he slipped through the crowd and staggered up to his grandfather. He kept stumbling over his own feet, and black spots dotted his sight. 

Once he got back to Nikolai, he whispered that he wasn’t feeling well and was going to retire for the night. His grandfather gently kissed his forehead and took his hand. Yuri squeezed the rough, familiar hand weakly, then left through a less-trafficked exit. Thankfully, he didn’t garner much attention, and managed to struggle up all of the flights of stairs to his room. Once he got there, he collapsed onto his bed. 

Somehow, Yuri was going to have to gather up enough strength to make the journey down to the beach. Fearful of falling asleep and not waking up in time, he was careful not to let his eyes drift closed for too long. He had to wait until midnight, because that would leave him a large enough window to travel down to the shore before the tide started coming back in. 

Yuri found that petting his kitty was a welcome distraction. Potya nuzzled into him and was a warm, comforting weight on his chest. 

When the clock struck a quarter to twelve, he rose. It took a concentrated effort, considering that his limbs felt like lead. Potya mrowed in disgruntlement when he was forced to move. Yuri picked him up and pressed a kiss into his fur. Setting him down, he began to take off his elaborate outfit and put on something more practical. He pulled on leather boots with good traction, and wrapped his warmest cloak around his shoulders. 

Hands shaking, Yuri scrawled a note and left it folded on his bed. It said to take care of his cat if he didn’t come back, and a goodbye and apology to his grandfather if he never was to see him again. He described his strife, giving details about what had happened that fateful night and how he was still haunted. 

‘Never forget how dearly I love you, Grandfather. -Yuratchka.’ 

Before he left the room, Yuri took a moment to look around it. The place that he had grown up. His home. Because he was unsure if he would ever see it again, he tried to memorize every detail. Taking in a deep breath, he snugly put on his fur cap and braced himself for whatever lied ahead of him. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Once Yuri reached the beach, he was so dizzy that he had to sit down on a rock to rest. On the way down the mountain, he’d had to grab onto tree branches for support to keep himself upright. He stayed there for a while, listening to the crashing waves and taking in the scent of brine. When he had recovered somewhat, he slowly raised himself to his feet. Knees wobbling, he hobbled along the base of the cliffs, using the rocky wall to keep his balance. 

The moon was half full in the sky, casting dim light down onto the shore. 

It was proving very difficult to find the entrance to the cave in the dark, and he was beginning to think that the first time he had seen it, the tunnel had simply been a delusion of his sleep-deprived mind. However, he eventually found a familiar-looking overhang. The boulder was even harder to budge the second time. Yuri only managed to move it enough that half of the cave’s mouth was unblocked, but it would have to be enough. He was only able to squeeze in the tight opening because he was so thin. 

In the passage, he hunched his back to keep his head from brushing against the ceiling. The air was humid, stuffy, and nearly suffocating. It smelled musty, like a room that hadn’t been aired out in years. Feeling around in the blackness with his foot, he cautiously stepped onto the crumbling stairway. Oh, how he wished that there was a damn railing for him to cling to. Sadly, there was not. Instead, he had to grip the slimy, coarse stone wall with one hand so that he wouldn’t topple over. 

Gradually, Yuri made his way to the curve to the right in the tunnel, praying the whole way that he wouldn’t trip. He had been hoping that there would be a door there, but the cavern simply continued. In the distance, he could see it bend to the left once more. To make matters worse, there were ferns hanging down from above like stalactites. The tangled foliage only left three feet of clearance. 

Groaning angrily, Yuri drew his shashka and tried to hack away at it. To his shock, the tendrils caught hold of the blade and wrapped around it. It was tugged out of his hand, and he watched as it disappeared into the dense, feathery branches. In the soft light emanating from a lantern fixed to the wall, partially obscured by moss and twisting, lush growth, Yuri could see objects gleaming white in the grasp of the plants. Peering farther into the cavern, he could make out that they were the bones of small animals. 

For a brief moment, Yuri considered turning back. But then he thought of the consequences of such an action. He would just waste away, unable to function and steadily descending into madness. 

And so, resolute, he swiftly plaited his hair into a thick, secure braid and tucked it under his mantle so that the ferns could not grab hold of it. He then pulled his hood over his head and dropped down. Slowly he crawled forward, tearing the fabric at his elbows and knees and scraping up the palms of his hands.

Progress was excruciatingly slow, and he very quickly developed cramps in his neck and lower back. In some areas the ferns were larger and extended farther, so Yuri had to flatten himself onto his belly in a very undignified way to get past. The sound of the ocean eventually evanesced away, and the incline grew steeper. He had rounded several turns in the passageway, but there was no end in sight.

Up ahead, there was a massive form ensnared in the foliage. As he drew closer, Yuri realized that it was the skeleton of an unlucky human that had been captured. Shivering, he kept his eyes on the floor as he passed beneath the remains. He was beginning to get some concerns pertaining to Yakov’s character if he was the type of person to just leave a corpse lying about. 

To his mortification, his eyes began to droop shut from tiredness. He fought off sleep with tooth and nail, slapping his face aggressively. Then, he tried pinching himself until he had little bleeding crescent moons on his arms. Nothing seemed to work. He slumped onto his stomach and slowly lowered his eyelids. Maybe he could just take a short nap… 

It felt like he'd just blacked out for a moment before he jolted awake. It took him a moment to reorient himself and recall where he was. He cursed his own stupidity. It was a blessing that nothing awful had happened while he’d been dozing off. He shook his head to clear it and then continued his journey, more determined than before. 

The hours began to drag by, and Yuri started to ponder if anyone had noticed his absence yet. Most likely not, considering that the only person who visited him at night was his grandfather, and he rarely had the strength to make it up to Yuri's room anymore. 

Yuri rounded what felt like the fiftieth corner. Ahead of him was a clearing and a huge, wooden door. His whole body relaxed in relief. 

Once he was out from underneath the ferns, he cautiously stood up and began examining the door. It looked as if it hadn't been used in years. A cobweb stretched between the brass knob and the ground. Vibrant green moss covered the gnarled wood, and alabaster polypores climbed up one side of it. 

Wary of a trap, Yuri kicked the door and then quickly stepped back. Nothing happened, so he reached out and touched the knocker. Figuring that it was safe, he took it and rapped it against the back plate. The sound reverberated off the walls and bounced down the tunnel. 

Yuri waited and waited. His well of patience soon ran dry. He banged on the door again, this time with more force. Yuri held on for longer this time, hoping that someone would come and let him in. When nobody did, he pounded his weak fists on the door as hard as he could. 

He slid down, leaning his back against the wall. Despair and frustration overwhelmed him. Had he come all of this way for nothing? Without thinking and filled with rage, he punched the craggy face of the cave and immediately regretted it. 

Dark rivulets streamed down his knuckles and dripped onto the floor, splattering ominously. He swore, and buried his hand deep into his robes to try and stop the bleeding. 

When he looked up, Yuri was looking into the beady eyes of an old man wearing a faded nightgown. 

“What do you want?” he demanded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this chapter, I hope you guys do too ^^


	5. Midday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri begs Yakov for a spell, and makes a rash decision.

Yuri rose to his feet, using the wall as a brace so that he wouldn't fall. Blinking away eye spots, he retorted, 

“Are you Yakov?” 

“Depends on who's asking,” the man growled. “If you’re trying to sell me something, I’m not interested.” 

“I am Yuri Plisetsky, heir to the throne. I have come seeking a spell.” Yuri raised his chin defiantly. 

“Vitya’s cousin?” 

“That’s right.” The man who Yuri was now certain was Yakov glared at him for a moment. Finally, he sighed defeatedly and trudged back inside. 

“Come in, I suppose.” 

As Yuri entered Yakov’s abode, he was immediately overpowered by the scent of an amalgamation of spices and vinegar. The source of the smell wasn’t difficult to track; one wall with a rickety ladder leaning against it was lined top to bottom with jars of various sizes and shapes. Within them was an array of powders, sprigs, unidentifiable body parts, and sickly liquids. 

“A spell, you say?” Yakov sat down and poured himself a drink from a massive barrel, but the way that the alcohol dripped out suggested that it was nearly empty. As he took a sip, he raised an eyebrow. Well, he would have if he had any eyebrows to speak of, anyway. Yuri gulped, trying to fight off his anxiety. 

“Yes.” 

“Well, what spell is it that you want?” Yakov asked roughly. 

What did Yuri want? He summarized his story for Yakov, telling of the incident on the beach and his health’s deterioration. 

He finished by asking, “Maybe a spell to make me forget about the merman?” sounding more unsure than he would have liked. 

Yakov barked out a laugh. 

“If I did a spell like that, there’s a good chance that you’d forget everything else too.” 

“Well, what would you suggest?” Yuri snapped defensively. Yakov’s features hardened. 

“Go home. Either you’ll recover, or you’ll die. Both are better options than anything I could provide you with.” Yuri slammed his hands on the table, blood boiling. 

“There must be something that you could do!” Yakov stood, joints cracking, and began walking away. His ignoration just made Yuri all the more furious. 

“Hey!” 

“I told you kid, it’s not worth it. Now, let me show you the exit. You took the long way before.” Yuri grabbed the sleeve of his ruffled nightgown. 

“Please, please help me!” Then, swallowing down his pride, he continued. “You’re my last hope,” he admitted, loathing how his voice wavered. Yakov stopped, shoulders tense, and scoffed. There was a pause, and then-

“Well, I suppose there is one spell…” he muttered. “Nevermind.” He tore his arm away from Yuri, then started up a set of creaky wooden stairs. 

“I’ll do it!” Yuri cried, still trailing behind him. 

“Forget about it! The side effects are far too numerous.” 

“I don’t care!” Yuri went in front of Yakov and blocked his path. “I beg you, I’ll do anything. I have to see him again.” 

Yakov scrutinized him, eyes narrowed. Finally, he relented. 

“You’re lucky you look so much like your damn cousin. I could never say no to him, either.” He turned around and slowly descended the steps, using the banister as a prop. Yuri did the same. 

Once they made it to the bottom, Yakov crossed the room and pulled a thick tome off of a shelf. He blew some dust off of the cover, then placed it down on the worn table. He flipped through the pages until he found the one he was searching for. Squinting at the top of it, he traced a finger over the words. 

“This is it. Come over here and see if this is what you really want,” he growled. Yuri obeyed, worried that any hint of insurgence would result in Yakov changing his mind. Yakov folded his arms, a smug look on his face. Clearly, he was confident that Yuri would back down once he read what the spell entailed, and that there was no way he’d consent. 

Yuri scowled and turned his attention to the text. He felt the color drain from his cheeks as his eyes scanned the words. It was a spell to turn a human into a mer, but… it certainly had some faults. The further Yuri read, the faster his heart rate became. The first thing that stood out to him was the fact that one of the ingredients was the tongue of the person who intended to use it. He gently chewed on his own, trying to imagine a mouth without it. Or a life without it, for that matter. 

The second part that made him queasy was that every flick of his tail would feel as if he was being slashed by a knife. Everytime he would try to swim, he would have to endure immense pain. The final piece was that if the transformation took place because of infatuation, the drinker would die the morning after their love married another. 

Fleetingly, Yuri considered all of these things. But then a vision of the lovely merman entered his mind’s eye, and all of his reason vanished. 

“I’ll do it,” he announced fiercely, voice trembling. 

“Are you a fool?” Yakov was incredulous. 

“Perhaps.”

“Do you realize that if you do this, you can never be human again? That you’ll never see your grandfather again? And if your merman marries another, you will perish the next day!” 

Yuri would not let his resolve break. Trying his best to present a courageous facade, he strode over to Yakov. 

“Let’s get on with it!” he commanded. Yakov searched his eyes; for what, Yuri wasn’t sure. 

“Very well. But trust me when I tell you that this will bring you nothing but sorrow.” 

Yuri dipped his head. Pulse racing, he watched as Yakov prepared a flame in the fireplace, and soon it cast flickers of light about the room. Trying to mask his apprehension, Yuri glared wordlessly to one side, eyes unfocused. This all felt like a hazy dream. 

Yakov heaved a huge, black iron cauldron onto a rod that hung over the fire. Quickly, he wiped out the inside with a soot-stained rag before it could get too hot. If cleaning had been his intention, Yuri didn’t see how it was effective. 

“Here.” Yakov was holding out his hand. Resting on the palm was a small red berry. “It’s for numbing pain,” he informed him gruffly. “I use it for aching joints.” With a quaking hand betraying his nerves, Yuri accepted it. The little fruit had a tough shell on the outside, with incredibly bitter juice within. Yuri felt it every inch of its journey down his dry esophagus. 

Yakov propped the book of spells against the barrel on the table, then began to rummage through his bottles, procuring several of various sizes. One was filled with purple liquid, another with the pickled feet of an amphibian or reptile of some kind, and the final was stuffed with a black powder. He tipped a bit of each into the pot, then took a great wooden spoon off of a hook on the wall and began to stir. Steam began to rise from the cauldron, taking the forms of horrific demons that rapidly evaporated. He added more ingredients to the brew, a bit of this and a bit of that. 

Yakov glanced at the book and then rested his spoon over the lip of the pot. He turned back to face Yuri, eyes sad and solemn. Yuri knew that it was time. Teeth chattering, he forced himself to open his mouth wide. He pressed his eyes closed. The sound of a knife being drawn cut through the quiet like butter, and he jolted. He felt a warm hand squeeze his shoulder in a vain attempt at comfort. 

Fingers then grasped Yuri’s tongue firmly and pulled softly to extend it. An unwelcome tear streaked down his cheek, and his breaths came short and fast. There was something cold pressing against the back of his tongue, almost in his throat. Yuri was about to call the whole thing off, but then- 

a terrible ripping sound filled the air, and tangy, metallic blood flooded his mouth. 

Radiating agony, unlike Yuri had ever felt in his entire life, pulsed through his system. If the berry had helped at all, he couldn’t tell. Clutching his mouth, Yuri collapsed to his knees. Uncontrollable tears streamed down his contorted face, eyes scrunched shut. He opened them for a moment, and through his blurry vision he could see Yakov carrying a bloody pink object over to the pot. It felt like this wasn’t reality, that it wasn’t actually happening. But through his disassociation, he knew that that was his tongue. Detached from the rest of him. The one that people called a viper tongue. And now it was gone forever. 

Yuri would never be able to speak properly again. 

With a cough, the blood came pouring out. It dripped over his lips and down his chin. To his surprise, no more liquid surged into his oral cavity. The wound had sealed cruelly. The knife must have cauterized the laceration with some magic. The pain subsided slightly, and he blinked his overflowing eyes. 

Yakov moved to face him again after putting out the fire, wiping a teardrop away. 

“I never should have agreed to this.” 

Yuri attempted to yell at him about how intensely it had hurt, but only incoherent sounds escaped without enunciation. The actuality of what he had done sunk in, and his stomach plummeted. He sobbed angrily. How could he have been so moronic? 

Yakov tested the potion’s warmth, then took an empty vial and plunged it in. It emerged full of a clear fluid that looked identical to water.   
He helped Yuri to his feet. His hands were calloused and gentle, reminding Yuri of his grandfather’s. The bottle was pressed into Yuri’s hand. 

“If the ferns grab hold of you, sprinkle some of the draught on them and they’ll release you.” Yakov couldn’t even raise his eyes to meet Yuri’s gaze. Yuri pulled his hood over his head and moved towards the door. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he heard Yakov mumble behind him. 

As Yuri entered the tunnel, the potion began glowing like a brilliant star between his fingers. The ferns shrank away from it, curling into themselves. Yuri was able to walk upright down the passageway with no unusual trouble. He still had to bend down a bit to clear the ceiling, and lean against the walls for support.

As he went along, the plants relinquished their grip on the various objects they’d ensnared. Necklaces, hanks of hair (that must have been chopped off after being grabbed), and all other types of curiosities dropped to the cave floor. With a clatter, the skeleton fell down before him. Several of the smaller bones rolled and tapped against his boots. He shuddered.

Soon Yuri could hear the sound of the sea, a crescendo of breaking waves slapping against the cliffs. The journey back was a lot shorter than the way up. Yuri took his sword back from where the ferns had dropped it, and returned it to its sheath. He was unsure what he would need it for, but having it on his hip was comforting. He stumbled down the stairs and through the narrow space between the boulder and the entrance. Waves crashed at his feet; the tide was starting to return. The wind howled around him, tugging at his garments. It was almost intolerably loud after the dead silence of the cavern. 

Yuri moved down the shoreline to where he could see the palace far above him in the mountains. Most of the lights had been extinguished, but he could still easily make out the shapes of the edifice and the nearby town. An awful ache pulled at his heartstrings. In his head, he wished a farewell to his beloved grandfather. He hoped that he wouldn’t be missed too much. Then, he thought about his little flowers and said goodbye to them too, apologizing for not being able to care for them well as of late. 

Before stepping into the icy waters, he blew a kiss back towards his home. Then, forcing himself not to weep, he turned away to venture further into the ocean. Quickly, his cloak and boots were soaked through. The water lapped at his calves, then his knees, then his waist… When it reached his neck, he came to a halt on his tippy toes. Fingers wet and slippery, he dug his nails into the cork of the potion bottle and yanked it out. He drank all of its contents. It was tasteless, but felt like fire licking in his belly. 

At first, nothing happened. But a moment afterward, Yuri felt as if he was being sliced to pieces by a double-edged sword from the inside out. He screamed, dark spots blocking out sections of the stars above. It felt like his lower half was glowing white-hot, like a blacksmith had put it into a crucible and then a flaming forge. His head lolled back as the surf crashed over him, and everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor baby Yuri :c


	6. Noon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri awakens on the sea-floor, aching too badly to move. A familiar merman finds him lying there.

When Yuri awoke, the first thing that he was aware of was the sharp ache in his jaw. His mouth simultaneously felt too empty and too full. Blearily, he opened his eyes to golden light streaming down from above. In his sleep inertia state, he wondered why he felt so light. Lying on his side, he could see peculiar, green-brown plants that stretched towards the sky. They danced lazily in the wind, but he felt no breeze. 

Yuri reached out out to one of the fronds in an attempt to touch it, and noticed that his hand looked strange. Was he wearing a glove? He drew it closer to his face to inspect it. It was covered in tiny, light-gray scales almost to the elbow. When he rubbed his fingers together they felt gritty. There were membranes between his fingers. Was this some kind of a strange dream? It felt like he was underwater… 

With a sinking feeling in his belly, he remembered the events from the previous night from before he fell unconscious. The spell, the tongue, passing out… He felt so stupid. Regret filled him up like a rotten meal. What on earth had he been thinking? He glowered up at the surface of the water, blinking tears away. Ruefully, he reflected on how it didn’t matter how much you cried into the ocean. It was just salt water melting into more salt water. 

Yuri tried to push himself upright, but his head ached so much and he felt so nauseous that he had to immediately lie back down again. In the moments that he was sitting, he briefly glimpsed a massive gray tail that had darker bands. Well, at least his tail looked impressive. 

He tried to rest on his back, but he found that there was something protruding from it and he was forced to flip onto his stomach. The action stirred up a cloud of sand. It got caught in his gills, and he almost choked. It was a very unfamiliar feeling. He hadn’t realized that he’d been filtering water through his gills until that moment; he’d been doing it automatically. (However, now that he was aware of his breaths, he couldn’t take his mind off of them.) 

Experimentally, Yuri softly flicked the caudal fin of his tail. Just that small movement delivered the same shooting pain as when one stubs their toe hard against something solid. The sensation lingered on for quite some time, and Yuri bore it by gritting his teeth. 

His teeth. He went to run his tongue over them, and his mind became confused when nothing happened. With a pathetic sob, Yuri instead touched the tips of his lower teeth with a finger. They felt serrated and pointed, like little knives. No wonder his jaw hurt so badly, it’d had to adapt to new additions. He was quite certain that there were more than 32 teeth in there. 

Having nothing better to do, Yuri surveyed his surroundings. From what he could see, he determined that he was in a kelp forest of some kind. Little fishes darted through the seaweed, and one of them came up to nibble at his face before he swatted at it irritably and it sped away like lightning. 

He laid there for what could have been hours, sifting his fingers through the coarse sand and holding broken shell fragments up to the light. Picking up a snail shell, he silently admired how the rich taupe of its interior shone. 

Closing his eyes and feeling the current washing over him, Yuri wondered if he would be stuck there until he starved to death. He still felt too ill to go anywhere, and no other merfolk seemed to be nearby. 

Just as that thought crossed his mind, however, he opened his eyes and they were met by another pair of earnest, coal-black ones. It was the very merman that Yuri had rescued. His stoic face was marred by a touch of concern. Long, dark tendrils of hair drifted around him in the water. A complicated array of braids loosely tied the top half of his mane back. The plaits were strung with chunky, colorful beads. 

The mer narrowed his eyes in thought, and scrutinized Yuri. Yuri found himself blushing, embarrassed at being fixed under such an intense gaze. His recollections of the merman paled in comparison to having him right there, in the flesh. He was right there, after all this time and suffering. The merman clicked something that might have been a question, and Yuri shook his head bitterly in response. The mer cocked his head to the side slightly. 

Although Yuri had no desire to appear weak in front of the merman, his head still throbbed terribly and he felt too bilious to make himself get up. Additionally, he didn’t dare move his tail. If at all possible, he wanted to avoid the agony that he’d experienced the first time. He heard a pitiable moan, and realized that it was seeping out of his own throat. 

To his surprise, Yuri felt himself being lifted up into strong arms. His eyes widened, lips slightly parted, but he didn’t protest. The merman’s hands on his waist and under his tail were so firm and secure. Yuri felt… safe. Almost unconsciously, he nestled into the beautiful merman's compact form. Dusty-sepia scales were scattered over his pectoral muscles, and Yuri fought the urge to trace his fingers over them. 

Because he was taller than the mer, though slimmer, Yuri had to lean his head down to rest it on his shoulder. But he did so, relishing every instant of it. He could feel the gills on the merman's neck against his cheek, delicately opening and closing. Around the merman's neck were exquisite pieces of jewelry. Some were made of pearl, and some of fish vertebrae. Dangling from his pointed ears were black coral earrings. 

With the water pressing against them as the merman swam, Yuri could almost imagine that he was flying if he closed his eyes. This didn’t feel real, and yet he was overcome by a sudden euphoria. He couldn't believe that after pining and wasting away for so long, he was actually being held by the person that had perpetually dominated his thoughts. 

They passed by a barnacle-covered shipwreck, a huge rock formation, a beautiful coral reef… But Yuri barely noticed any of those things. He was too enraptured by the mer’s determined coal-colored eyes. 

Yuri wrapped his arms around the merman's neck and his hair, which had been pinned under his arm, was freed. Golden strands mingled with ebony ones, catching the light in a shimmering display. 

Yuri found himself beaming blissfully for the first time in ages. He couldn't recall the last time that he had been so happy. Probably not since Viktor had eloped. 

Peace bathed him like the tide, and all his pain and troubles seemed to melt away.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The merman took Yuri to a magnificent palace, which rose up in the distance like a shining jewel. The surrounding grounds hosted numerous gardens, and their colors and vibrancy rivalled what Yuri’s own had once looked like. The striking plants were foreign and bizarre, waving their neon polyps in the current. There were beds of what looked like grass, and little blue slugs stuck to them. It felt to Yuri as if he were in another world. 

The mer carried him down a path of translucent, polished stones. Along the way were bioluminescent squids that flashed blue and illuminated the trail. 

As they approached the castle, Yuri was able to appreciate its beauty up close. Its walls were built of blocks of white limestone, with ruby-colored coral growing in between the cracks. Extravagant arches curved like rainbows over courtyards, and starfish-covered, colossal pillars that resembled Greek architecture supported overhangs. The roof consisted of millions of tightly clustered oysters and mussels. As Yuri watched, he noticed the subtle opening and closing of the shells. Within some of the oysters were glimmering pearls. 

While there was a main entrance, the castle bore many round holes with intricate carvings around them. Fish and turtles swam through them freely. Yuri saw some merfolk doing the same, but there was only one mer that he cared about. Yuri spotted a huge, rust-colored creature with many tentacles. He recognized it from picture books and Viktor’s stories as an octopus. The underwater realm was more fantastical than anything he could have possibly fathomed. 

The merman started to take him upwards, and when Yuri looked down he could see the landscape spread out around him like a detailed quilt. There were other, smaller edifices further out, and Yuri pondered on who they might belong to. Nobles, perhaps? He speculated that they were just as insufferable and condescending as their human counterparts.

The merman brought Yuri through an open window and into a large, circular room. The floor was piled up with fine, soft sand, and Yuri was tenderly set down on it. Carefully, the mer swam up and closed the lucarne. The panes were made up of hundreds of rare-hued sea-glass shards that had been meticulously pieced together. They cast down ruby, topaz, and citrine shadows. 

The room was sparsely furnished, save for an enormous chest encrusted with barnacles, and a full-length mirror inlaid in gold hanging on the wall. The swirling mother-of-pearl walls bore large pink conchs that emanated a honey-colored light. One section of the room had a tall shelf built into it, on which rested a number of curiosities. 

In an even tone, the merman began asking what seemed to be questions. Yuri wished that he could answer them, but he was incapable even if he could understand mermish. Transfixed, he stared deeply into the mer’s studying eyes. They were truly fascinating. In the light slanting down from the stained glass window, the irises were revealed to be, in actuality, a deep brown. The pupils were shark-like and oval-shaped. Yuri wondered if his own eyes looked like that now. 

Furrowing his brow in apparent confusion, the merman gestured for Yuri to stay put. Yuri’s heart sank miserably as he watched him swim away. The quiet swish as he passed through the hanging carnation-pink sea plants covering the doorway was heartbreaking. It felt far too soon to be parting. Yuri collapsed onto his side and folded his arms crossly as he waited. 

An eternity later, the mer returned. With him was another merman, with a sleek tail that had spots like a leopard. His chestnut hair was pulled back into a messy bun, held in place with a polished bone. The two of them were chittering to each other. The newcomer’s line of sight fell onto Yuri, and his warm brown eyes widened. He immediately rushed over. Freckled face kind and encouraging, he helped Yuri to sit up. 

Gingerly, he started to unclasp the latches on Yuri’s tunic. Defensively, Yuri tried to push him away. But then he saw the empathy written over the mer’s features, and begrudgingly allowed him to undo his shirt. Yuri saved him the effort and tugged off the tunic and his undershirt, leaving his torso bare and exposed. The freckled merman gave a distressed gasp, and the other mer’s eyes brow crinkled in worry. Panic crawled up Yuri’s throat at their reactions to his emaciated body. If he had a shell like a hermit crab, he would be curled up inside of it. 

Humiliated, Yuri turned away and glared at nothing in particular. 

From a tightly woven net bag around his waist, the brunette merman procured a gleaming white tool of some kind. It looked pointy. Yuri’s anxiety threatened to strangle him as he remembered the last time that he had encountered a sharp object near his mouth. The merman with the kind eyes gestured for him to open his mouth. Yuri pointedly refused. The freckled merman murmured something to him in a soothing voice, but was ignored. 

Like hell Yuri was letting that thing near his mouth! But then a strong, comforting hand took his own. Breath caught in his throat, Yuri lifted his gaze and met his merman's beautiful, sable eyes. “Please, do this?” they seemed to ask. And Yuri just couldn't say no. 

Trembling, he opened his mouth wide and squeezed his eyes shut. He had no desire to see the mermen’s faces when they realized that he was missing a tongue. Without wanting to let go of that hand to cover his ears, however, he was left vulnerable to their quiet exclamations of horror. 

Pressing his eyes shut harder, Yuri silently wished for this to be over with. He felt the tool bring gently prodded around in his mouth. It grazed the tender tissue where his injury had been cauterized, and he hissed. His eyes popped open, and he saw the freckled mer dart his hand back. Spotty (Yuri decided right then and there to call him that out of spite) closely examined the rest of his body.

With a soft cry, he noticed the cuts on Yuri’s knuckles from when he punched the cave wall. Returning the tool to his bag, he withdrew a roll of wide, diaphanous green gauze with ruffled edges. He then carefully wound it around Yuri’s hand and tied the ends securely. 

A shiver rolled down Yuri's spine. it was cold, slimy seaweed. Spotty gave him a once over. Seemingly satisfied, he turned his attention to the other merman and they began speaking to each other. Feeling exposed without clothing, Yuri wrapped his hair around himself like a cloak. He peered out at his companions through a veil of golden strands. 

Spotty whistled something to the dark-haired merman, dipped his head respectfully, then swam out of the room. 

Yuri and the remaining merman, the one he had rescued, stared at each other in silence for a few moments. Yuri drank in the details of the merman’s face for a moment, admiring the sharp lines and skin that looked the color of deep amber in the sunset light from the stained glass window. It felt as if he were in a trance. 

The moment ended abruptly when the merman motioned for Yuri to wait where he was. He slipped out of the room, and again Yuri’s heart sank. When the merman returned, he bore a huge, red-striped cockle shell. Within it were nestled various foods. There was a raw, skinned fish, a cluster of open oyster shells with glistening meat within, severed crab legs that were cracked open, and a pile of what appeared to be shredded seaweed. 

Yuri looked to the merman in bewilderment. Was he supposed to.. eat this? It wasn’t even cooked! The mer held out the shell, and Yuri reluctantly accepted it. He grimaced internally, but gathered up enough courage to pick up the fish. The flesh was red and shiny, and he felt his mouth begin to water. He was so hungry… 

Pressing his eyes shut, Yuri sunk his sharp teeth in and tore off a piece. It was so slippery, and without a tongue he couldn’t guide it to his back teeth. He sniffled, and his eyes would have been watery if he had been above the surface. Eventually, he was forced to stick a finger into his mouth and push the food into position so that could chew it properly. He had no clue what it tasted like, and if he were a more optimistic person he might consider that a positive thing. 

Eating was a long and arduous process, but eventually Yuri had consumed most of the meal. (He didn’t dare try to tip those gooey oysters down his throat.) The whole while, the merman patiently waited for him. Yuri handed the dish back to him, feeling rather queasy. The mer told him something in mermish, then turned and left. As he watched his retreating back, he felt like he was deflating. How long would he be gone?

Yuri felt too ill from the food and his pounding headache to go and explore the room, so he stayed put. The sand was incredibly comfortable, and he felt himself drifting off. He was absolutely exhausted, and sleep came easily to him. He woke up unexpectedly in the middle of the night, the cause of his awakening long forgotten once he opened his eyes. 

He was face-to-face with the merman, who was lying beside him on his belly. His lush eyelashes fluttered as he slept, and his gill movement was steady. His thick hair was pulled back into a simple braid, and he wasn’t wearing any jewelry. After all this time, he was so close, so real. Just in case he was still dreaming, Yuri leaned forward and pressed a secret kiss to his cheek. It felt cool and smooth against his lips, and he knew that this wasn’t just an imagination. 

A small smile played on Yuri’s mouth, and he slipped back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuri is finally with his merman!


	7. Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri starts to get used to his new life, and he performs a dance for the merman.

Every night, Yuri slept beside the merman. He gradually recovered, aided by the assistance of the spotted merman. He began to eat more healthily, and was slowly getting back up to the weight he had been before his downward spiral. The wound on his hand eventually faded away without scarring, as if it had never happened. The tenderness on the stub of what had once been his tongue subsided as well. He got phantom sensations sometimes, and then his brain would be confused when nothing happened. The taste buds in his throat adapted, and he was able to detect strong flavors. 

Although he felt like he was being stabbed viciously by serrated knives every time he swam, Yuri bore it willingly. It was enough to simply be by his merman’s side. Yuri followed him around the palace, and was quite morose when he had to leave for official business. The merman gave him a nickname, and he was quickly able to recognize it. It sounded like a high whistle that dropped with a glissando into a low one. The merman told him his name, which was quite long. Yuri ended up shortening it to the three syllables he could actually pronounce without a tongue: Oabe. The merman seemed to find the appellation endearing. 

As soon as Yuri was well enough to leave the bedroom, he was adorned with elegant jewelry and diadems. They were delicately crafted of vibrant coral, glimmering pearls, sea glass, bone, and shells. Servants came every morning to carefully comb and braid his hair into ornate styles and put little beads on them. Sometimes, they put him into loose robes and tunics made of old fish nets or woven sea plants. 

It drove Yuri crazy how everyone stared as he passed them by. It was in the way that one would admire a fine muslin or an exotic animal caged in a menagerie. Not wanting to disappoint Oabe, he tried his best not to start any fights (although sometimes he would glare at them pointedly with wide eyes if they persisted; they would either look offended or glance away and pretend like they hadn’t been watching him at all). What were they all gawking at anyway? He was just a scrawny, miserable creature that couldn’t even swim right. 

When people were talking to Oabe, they tended to ignore Yuri entirely. (Although he caught them leering at him.) Just because he couldn’t articulate or understand their language, they treated him like he was stupid. As if he were a pet or an amusing toy. But Oabe never behaved towards him in that way. He never expected Yuri to swim behind him; they were always side by side. He would even slow down to make sure that this was possible. 

With great patience, Oabe started to teach Yuri mermish. It proved to be quite a laborious undertaking. The word and sentence structures were entirely different from Yuri’s mother tongue. The written mer language consisted of impossibly complicated carved characters that Yuri couldn’t hope to decipher. He easily got frustrated, but Oabe coaxed him over his stumbling blocks.

Over the course of many months, Yuri began to grasp common words and phrases by ear (he never quite got the hang of the writing). It helped that he was being immersed in mermish every single day. Soon, he found that he could comprehend snippets of conversations that he heard. He learned that the name Oabe had bestowed upon him meant something akin to “little one who was found.” For some reason, it warmed him to his core whenever he heard it. 

Yuri still could not articulate his thoughts, because many merfolk vocables included a tongue click. Oabe seemed to come to understand his body language, however, and soon was able to read Yuri fairly easily. Yuri sometimes tried to mask his emotions, but he wasn’t very skilled at it. 

Gradually, Yuri came to know Oabe’s family. His father, who he deduced to have a king-like status, was a weathered, quiet, middle-aged man that frequently dozed off. At the morning meal (Yuri was permitted to sit on a stone next to Oabe, although he didn’t like to eat in front of people and so he did it in the privacy of Oabe’s room), now and then the king would fall asleep mid-bite. Oabe’s mother, on the other hand, was a fierce mermaid who viewed the world with a cold and calculating gaze. She wore her armor everywhere, with no other ornamentation besides at formal occasions. Everyone respected and feared her. Her son shared her thick, dark hair and tan skin, but Oabe’s eyes were so much warmer than hers. 

Oabe had numerous younger siblings as well, of varying ages. All of the mer pups all looked like miniature versions of him. Whenever they saw him, they would crowd around and squeak about all sorts of random things of little importance. Yuri found it difficult to understand mer children; their articulation was far rougher than their older counterparts. They would cling to Oabe’s tail and back and he would carry them around gently. He liked to bring them gifts as well, little trinkets he bought or shells he found. A couple of the kids latched onto Yuri, and he grumpily gave them affection. 

They were all very sweet, but the bond shared between Oabe and his siblings was painfully reminiscent of the one Yuri had had with Viktor. He wondered if Chris had send him a letter to tell him that he was missing. Yuri thought about his grandfather frequently as well. Was he doing alright without him? On top of that, Yuri worried if Potya was being taken care of. He knew that it seemed silly, but that cat had been with him through the hardest times in his life. 

Yuri missed all of them so much that it felt like a dull ache in his heart. Oh, if only he could see them again. But he couldn’t face them now. What would they say to him? It didn’t matter anyway, he wouldn’t be able to respond. He pictured their sad, disappointed expressions when they laid eyes on him and discovered what he had done to himself. 

Sometimes Yuri questioned why he had ever agreed to endure such tortures, but then he looked at his kind mer prince and the thought was forgotten. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

One night, after the the royal family had eaten dinner, some entertainment was being held for them. All of the children had been sent to bed already, so it was just Oabe, his parents, and Yuri. It was a celebration being held for Oabe (Yuri didn’t exactly know what the occasion was), and everyone was dressed in their finest. Even the queen was wearing an ornate headdress and a necklace, although she still had fish scale armor on, and shoulder pads made from humongous cockle shells.

The front part of Yuri’s hair had been done in tiny braids that arched over his head; they were connected like netting with blue and green sea-glass beads. The sides of his hair were plaited into five-strand braids, and they were pulled back with the rest of the top half of his mane. The twisted knot was secured with a mother-of-pearl comb that had dried aquamarine sea stars and the snow-white shells of tiny sea biscuits attached to it. The rest hung around him, rippling gently in the current. 

A polished white ring crafted from a spiny conch had been slipped onto Yuri’s index finger, and it sat right above the webbing between his digits ended. He had a carved clam-shell bracelet around his wrist, and a simple pearl pendant around his neck. Mismatched drift glass earrings that looked like they were covered with frost, one blue and one green, dangled from his pointed ears. 

However, Yuri paled in comparison to Oabe. A beautiful crown rested on his head, made from glossy tiger cowrie shells, horn snail shells the color of ivory, and cobalt coral. It had shimmering baroque pearls in shades of blue adorning it, and a large one hung on his forehead. His thick hair was pulled back into an elegant bun, and blue coral earrings tied the whole look together. 

Yuri couldn’t stop staring at him. Oabe looked so regal and poised, like he’d been carved from a statue. Even back when Yuri had rescued him so very long ago, when he had been unconscious and bedraggled, he had thought the same thing. The ornaments that Oabe wore simply accentuated his already beautiful features. 

As if he sensed that he was being watched, Oabe turned his head and made direct eye contact with Yuri. Yuri quickly tore his gaze away and glared into his lap, flushed. 

The first performer sashayed in. Her long black hair was plaited back, and the braid floated behind her when she stopped to face her audience. She clasped her hands together in front of her bare bosom, and her fiery coral bracelets clicked together. She closed her striking blue eyes and parted her lips, which were red as blood. Song tumbled out, ringing like pure bells. 

Yuri could not understand the lyrics, but the feelings behind them were clear. Loneliness. Something precious being lost forever. Regret. It was so poignant that Yuri couldn’t help but feel a stirring deep within his soul. From either side of the soloist, a merman joined her. One had dark skin and bright, mischievous eyes. The other had pale skin and slanted, cold eyes. Both harmonized with the mermaid, and suddenly the melody changed into a major key and was filled with hope. Two more mers, a male with soft, downturned eyes and a female with warm tan skin, entered the chorus. All of them were in perfect tune with each other. 

The main mermaid lifted her eyelids as she flawlessly climbed an octave, chest heaving as she delivered powerful notes. Yuri could feel the emotion mounting inside of him as the song reached its peak. But then the illusion was shattered when she fell onto a flat instead of a natural. She quickly recovered and finished off the melody with a flourish, but it simply wasn’t the same. 

Hearing the song reminded Yuri of the lullabies that Viktor used to sing to him as he drifted off to sleep. His heart turned melancholy just thinking about it. To distract himself from recalling the past, Yuri glanced over to Oabe to see his reaction to the performance. He was clapping politely, as stoic as ever. 

The mer with the downturned eyes, the tan mermaid, and the mermaid with blue eyes all went to the sides of the room. The two remaining in the middle prepared themselves, and the ones on the outskirts started up the first notes of a ballad. They spun the chords together like silk threads, weaving the exposition of a story yet untold. 

The merman with the dark skin slowly raised his arms above his head. His friendly eyes were half-lidded, and he smirked suggestively. His unbound black hair floated around him, symbolic of an unrestrained and untamed spirit. He wore chunky golden necklaces with red jewels embedded in them. They complemented his skin tone. His tail was wide and a sandy-tan color with dark speckles, and the fins were graceful and large like an angel’s wings. He swayed his arms back and forth, then pirouetted and wiggled his hips slightly. 

He took the cold-eyed merman by the hands and swam backwards, leading him along. He twirled the pale merman, who elegantly spun out and then back in. The cold-eyed merman’s arms were crossed over his waist, and his hands were being held behind him by the merman with the red jewelry. They danced back and forth, close and intimate. The light-skinned merman whirled around so that they were facing each other, wrapping his arm tenderly around the other’s slim waist. The merman with the warm eyes placed his hand on the other mer’s shoulder and they sashayed, cheek-to-cheek. He was dipped, and he fluidly stretched out his arm. 

They waltzed for quite some time together, and although it felt like he was intruded on something private, Yuri couldn’t drag his eyes away. The song slowed and fell into a minor key, and the motions of the dancers became repetitive and monotonous. The one with the pale skin clung to the other merman almost desperately, eyes pleading, but the merman with the dark skin’s boredom was growing evident in the stiffness and reluctance of his movements. 

With a dramatic jerk, he pulled away. Yuri hardly knew which one to look at; both were dancing differently and telling separate stories. The one with dark skin had a wide smile on his face. His movements were as open and free as a bird as he soared through the water. He arched his back with his chest facing the sky and then fell backwards into a flip. He corkscrewed through the water, free of his chains. 

The pale mer, on the other hand, mournfully drifted and turned to face the other merman longingly. In an adagio, he mimicked the dances that they had done together. Every motion was tarnished, and remorseful. Yuri found himself leaning forward to see better, mesmerized. 

With wide, wonder-filled violet eyes full of light, one of the mermaids swam from the side of the room and over to the merman with the dark skin from behind. She cautiously approached him and playfully tapped his shoulder. He turned, but she had moved out of the way, laughing. He teased her in return, and soon they were dancing, breathless. 

The other merman watched from afar, anguish clear in his expression. He floated down to the tile. Face twisted in sorrow, he reached out to his old love and then hunched over and clutched his heart. He imitated disemboweling himself, then collapsed. Unaware of what had just taken place, the couple blissfully began repeating the same movements that the two merman had been doing before. The vocalists drew out the last melancholy note, then tapered it off with a warble. 

Applause reverberated throughout the round room. Yuri joined in without entirely realizing it. The performance had been so much more engaging than anything that had been done at any human balls he had been to. He looked over to Oabe, and saw a smile curling on his lips. He followed his line of sight to the merman with the warm eyes and the friendly face. Yuri’s heart sank, and he felt as if he could cry. Bitter jealousy and despondency stewed in his belly. Oabe usually only reserved that smile for his siblings and Yuri. 

Yuri wanted Oabe to look at him with that same admiration. He wished to please him, to have Oabe all to himself. 

The mer entertainers gathered together again, and started up a slow tune with minor chords. As Yuri listened to it, he felt a stirring in his heart. The song was evocative and full of grief. It was like his limbs were being tugged on as if he were a puppet on strings. Nearly unconscious of what he was doing, Yuri pumped his tail and swam over to the performers. Each stroke felt like he was being butchered, but he tried his best to ignore it and bit his cheek. 

As if the music had put him in a trance, he raised his arms and twirled gracefully. He moved his tail as delicate as a bubble to minimize the pain, but the agony still tore through him. As fragile as parchment, he floated on his back and let his hair hover around him like a cloud. He expected that he would be dragged off the stage at any moment, but no guards arrived. 

And so Yuri danced the story of his life. His childhood, with all of its primrose promises and innocent imaginations. The stories, the lullabies, the dreams; all of these he expressed through his gentle movements. Every slight flick of his tail caused him to nearly cry out, but he bore it. He wanted Oabe to look at him, he wanted Oabe to love him and hold him tightly. 

Out of the corners of his vision, Yuri could see his sea-glass earrings glowing in the natural light of the sunset up above streaming in from the open window. He glided like the gentle stream that snaked through his garden, then moved his arms like how his willow’s draping branches did in the breeze. He poured all of the anger and betrayal and heartbrokenness that he had felt when Viktor had left him into the dance. 

Then came the depression, lightless and bleak as the winter. He moved his body as if it were weighted down by lead. The relief that he was able to rescue Oabe, and then the trauma, desperation, and starvation that followed. Yuri pulled at his mouth in a macabre fashion to represent the sacrifice of his tongue, thrashing his head. The song came to a diminuendo, and Yuri quelled his violent movements. Adrenaline pounded through his body from the bursting pain in his tail. 

Yuri conveyed the joy and warmth that he felt whenever he was with Oabe, but there was an undertone of suffering and longing. He spun like a snowflake, so dainty that a single hot breath could mark its fatal destruction. 

Registering that the song was coming to an end, Yuri poised one arm over his head and one off to the side. He arched his neck like a swan. The singers finished, and Yuri blinked out of his daze to see that the royal family were all staring at him with wide eyes. Panic jolted through his body, and he quickly lowered his head. Cursing himself and glaring at the marble flooring, he wondered how he could have been so stupid. Surely the queen would punish him for his actions. 

But then… He heard clapping. He cautiously lifted his gaze and saw that his audience was enthusiastically applauding him, even the singers that he had unintentionally upstaged. Oabe was smiling wider than he had ever seen, and Yuri felt like he could melt from happiness. Oabe being pleased with him was a million times more precious than gemstones or treasure. Yuri beamed and darted over to him. He embraced him fiercely, overcome with bliss and love. His emotions overwhelmed the excruciation in his tail. Oabe hugged him back, and Yuri thought he could explode from joy. 

In that moment, all of the terrible things that Yuri had endured seemed like trifles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some angst next chapter :')


	8. Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri and Oabe grow closer. Yuri encounters Viktor, and many tears are shed.

From that day forward, Oabe began to take Yuri everywhere with him. They were completely inseparable. When Oabe went to the council-house, Yuri accompanied him and tried his best to attend to his needs. Oftentimes, Oabe would get incredibly stressed from long, passionate trade and war meetings. The tense atmosphere of the conferences seemed to transfer into his muscles. Determined, Yuri would massage the prince’s tight shoulders and back. He also would also use stones warmed near volcanic vents to soothe Oabe’s aching body. He ignored that pain in his own tail. 

Over time, Yuri came to understand Oabe better. He was able to remain calm and level-headed in frustrating or difficult situations, but had to suppress his emotions without an outlet to do so. It was almost the opposite of Yuri, who took offense easily and didn’t know when to back down. They made a good pair, balancing each other out. Yuri recognized this, and it brought him measureless happiness. 

He had been afraid that getting to know Oabe would reveal a person that he disliked or could only tolerate. On the contrary, Yuri felt himself fall deeper in love with every passing day. He cherished every moment that they spent together. 

Sometimes, Oabe would take him out to fish. He was a lot more skilled than Yuri was, but also very humble about it and helped Yuri learn how to hold the spear properly in order to skewer the fish. Yuri improved, and eventually he was able to catch them without assistance. He was still rather clumsy at it, but every time he managed to impale a fish he beamed and held up the wriggling creature triumphantly. This was usually rewarded by a smile from Oabe. 

Oabe also showed Yuri the royal armory. There were two bulky guards stationed outside of it, faces unmoving and stiff. They had long, thin, squiggly stars on their bare backs. Yuri had observed that nearly all of the adult mermen bore similar mutilations, although he didn’t yet know what it meant. 

Within the armory, tiny glowing stones stubbed the shelves to illuminate various weapons, armor, and shields. All of them were masterfully crafted, more art than anything. Each one was unique, and bore the special mark of the mer that had crafted it. It was amazing to Yuri how much fine detailing was put into pieces that would most likely be destroyed in battle. 

Together, Yuri and Oabe went for long swims around the kingdom. Sometimes they would frolic with herds of dolphins, dappled in the glittering sunlight streaming down from above the foam-tipped waves. The sleek gray creatures adored Oabe, although they were a bit skittish around Yuri. It was almost as if they could sense that he used to be a human, and trusted him less because of it. They still let Yuri pet them, and gobbled up any snacks that he brought. They reminded him of the horses that resided in the royal stables, although there was no Christophe attending to the cetaceans (thank heavens). 

Oabe and Yuri glided together through thick seaweed forests where the tendrils would cling to them and wrap around their arms and tails like scarves. Little iridescent fish swirled around the two of them in a disorientating rainbow of color, and Oabe smiled at Yuri’s wonderment. 

One time, Yuri went to one of Oabe’s dueling lessons to spectate. He used to engage in swordplay frequently when he had been a human, and he missed it. Quickly, he analyzed the basics of mer technique, and gestured that he wanted to participate. The instructor laughed to his face, for how could a mute, delicate pet know anything about fighting? But Yuri insisted, and was given a curved blade (much to the amusement of his peers). Oabe went easy on him, clearly afraid of causing injury. But he soon was forced to increase the power behind his blows. 

Everyone stared, wide-eyed and shocked at Yuri’s proficiency. Although Yuri was a bit rusty, he quickly overcame Oabe, forcing him to surrender. He shot a smug look at his doubters. After his triumphant victory, he was allowed to combat train with Oabe whenever he wished. 

A few times, Yuri travelled with Oabe to the bottoms of deep trenches. The trips became especially strenuous as the water pressure increased, and sometimes the journey would take hours. Yuri’s tail would feel as if it was bleeding out with every movement, and each inch they dived only brought him more pulsing agony. It felt like a million needles were piercing his flesh. 

But Yuri only laughed and squeezed Oabe’s firm hand tighter as he followed him into the depths of the ocean until there was complete darkness, save for the glowing stones that they brought with them. In an abyss, the sun would seem like only a distant memory. 

There were strange creatures down there, and they seemed to be attracted to Oabe and Yuri’s lights. Some of them had sabre-fangs and huge, bug-like orbs for eyes. Yuri also spotted tiny, translucent cephalopods and shrimp, as well as jellyfish with crimson bells and tentacles like wriggling worms. Yuri marvelled at all of them; Viktor had never described creatures so alien. He sometimes caught himself thinking, “Just wait until Viktor hears about this!,” only to remember that even if he met Viktor somehow, he wouldn’t be able to tell him anything. 

When everyone in the palace was asleep, Yuri would slip away and sit on a rock off of the shore. The cool air helped to soothe his burning tail, although it did nothing to ease the aching in his heart when he looked up at the mountains and saw his old home. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

It was on a night such as this that Yuri was thinking about all of the people on land that he held dear. Elegiac thoughts weighed him down as he struggled with the fact that it took a concentrated effort to recall the faces of his grandfather and especially Viktor. 

Yuri saw movement on the shoreline, and squinted his eyes in the darkness. When they stepped out of the shadows cast by the cliffs, it was evident that it was a person. Yuri was immediately alert. Could it be a poacher? He slipped closer to investigate, and hid behind a large boulder that poked out of the sea. All that he could hear was the sound of the waves beating against the sand and rocks, and so he had no way of knowing how close the person was. 

Yuri lowered himself underwater up to his chin so that his gills could breathe freely. Knowing that his bright hair would shine in the moonlight like a beacon, he gathered up thick sea-foam and covered his head with it for camouflage. Cautiously, he peered around the boulder to get a better look at the stranger. It turned out that he was not a stranger at all. 

When Yuri recognized him, he let out an involuntary gasp and quickly covered his mouth. Heart beating wildly in his chest, he ducked back into hiding. It was Viktor, he was certain of it. He had only needed to catch a glimpse of that brilliant silver hair and those piercing eyes to know. What was he doing here? 

Not daring to look again, Yuri held back in silence for quite some time. He leaned his head against the craggy surface behind him, waiting for his pulse to steady again. Then, above the whispering and crashing of the tides, he heard a voice. 

At first he thought that he’d just imagined it, but it grew in strength until its presence was unmistakable. It was one of the old lullabies that Viktor had sung to him when he was small to lull him to sleep. Yuri carefully peeked at Viktor again, who had sat down on a large stone wedged into the wet sand. His eyes were closed as he sang, and his head was bowed. Silver strands partially obscured his face like a veil. Yuri found himself unable to look away. There were more lines around Viktor’s eyes and in his forehead, and he seemed more tired. 

Yuri moved closer to hear better. It was a song about a child that played in the hills until dusk with their pet goat. He scrubbed stubborn tears away as he remembered playing in sunlit fields covered in flowers when he was young, and laughing without a care in the world. Those days could never come back to him. 

When that song was over, Viktor began one about a pair of kittens exploring the farm they lived on. It had been Yuri’s favorite when he was little, and he tearfully glared as nostalgia dripped from his heart. Sniffing, he wiped his nose. Suddenly, a line about buttercups was cut off by an abrupt sob. Yuri looked over at Victor to see droplets glistening in the moonlight as they rolled down his cheeks. 

Guilt immediately constricted in Yuri’s chest like a snake. This was all his fault. Victor hardly ever let himself be seen crying. He continued the melody, voice breaking as he wept. Yuri didn't want confrontation, but… He couldn't just sit there and listen to his cousin’s crying. He sounded so broken. 

Yuri glided beneath the shallow water, barely making a splash. Before he surfaced, he took a few moments to prepare himself mentally. He tried his best to gather up some courage, but his heart was pounding. He pushed himself out of the water, and his wet hair stuck to his skin. Viktor didn’t notice him at first, and Yuri briefly considered escaping while he still could. 

But then Viktor slowly opened his eyes and then widened when they landed on Yuri. He jolted in shock and shrunk back a bit automatically. He was pale as death, as if he’d seen a ghost. They stared at each other for a moment, neither sure what to say. 

“Yuratchka!”

Frantically, Viktor waded into the water until he was in front of Yuri and his robes were sopping wet. He knelt down and drew Yuri into a tight embrace. Tentatively, Yuri returned it. He drew in Viktor’s familiar scent, one that he had nearly forgotten. He felt safe within those arms. Viktor rocked him back and forth for quite some time, but eventually released him to look at him.

Unable to meet Viktor’s gaze, Yuri lowered his eyes. 

“Where have you been? Everyone’s been so worried.” Yuri, of course, could not respond. If he was capable, he might’ve been tempted to respond with a biting remark about how Viktor had abandoned him. But he just stayed silent. Viktor gently placed his hands of Yuri’s cheeks. “Yuuuura. What’s wrong?” he questioned, trying to lighten the mood with a playful tone. Yuri didn’t miss the notes of fear and concern hidden within it. 

This was far more painful than anything he had endured thus far. 

“Please, please speak to me.” Panic was rising in Viktor’s voice, although he was trying to conceal it. A teardrop slid down Yuri’s face and dripped from his chin. The only thing to fill the quiet was the roaring sea. “Yura, please!” Viktor begged him, hands dropping down to grip his shoulders. “Say something, anything!” 

Yuri dared to lift his eyes, and instantly regretted it. Viktor’s face was covered in wet tears, brows knitted in concern. His visage was full of worry and desperation, although there was still a glimmer of hope there. “Please,” he whispered. “I’m right here for you. I’m sorry that it took so long…” Yuri glowered in an attempt to mask his feelings, sobbing. “Can you forgive me?” 

Yuri thought about this. All of the loneliness and betrayal that he had felt, all of the sleepless nights. But… Viktor seemed so earnest. Yuri felt the long-held grudge against his cousin for eloping soften. Yuri didn’t really see the point of staying bitter any longer. He nodded slowly, and Viktor’s shoulders sagged a bit in relief. However, they tensed up again when Yuri didn’t say anything. 

“Yura, what’s wrong? Why won’t you talk to me?” Viktor implored, hands trembling as they grasped Yuri’s upper arms. Yuri tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but it was ineffective. He pressed his eyes shut, and then shakily opened his mouth. A sharp gasp reached his ears, and he shuddered. 

When he raised his eyelids and closed his jaw, Viktor was biting his lip and looking down. Tears beaded on his lashes like stars and they scattered when he blinked. 

“Yura,” he choked out, “your tongue.” Yuri glared as he tried in vain not to start crying again. There was a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach, hollow and cold. “Why?” Viktor sounded so broken and full of despair. Yuri delicately lifted his tail out of the water behind him. Viktor hadn’t been able to see it in the darkness. “Oh, Yura…” He squeezed Yuri’s hands weakly and then pulled him into a hug. “Everything will be alright.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself as well as Yuri, but Yuri had a feeling that both of them knew it wasn’t true. 

Eventually, Yuri couldn’t bear it any longer. The more time he spent in Viktor’s arms, the more intense the aching in his heart became. In turmoil, he pushed away and dove before he could change his mind. The last thing he saw before he slipped under the waves was Viktor’s pale hand, still lingering in the air as he he reached towards him. 

Every night without fail after that, Viktor came to the beach and sung lullabies. Yuri didn’t reveal his presence, but he listened and watched from afar, full of sorrow.


	9. Twilight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oabe undergoes the rite-of-passage for mermen, Yuri is shocked at what it entails. Then, Oabe makes a confession.

There began to be an excitement throughout the underwater palace. Merfolk kept approaching Oabe and giving him what seemed to be congratulations. Yuri could not decipher most of what they were saying, but he kept hearing the word for “ceremony.” From what he had managed to piece together, Yuri determined that Oabe was about to undergo some sort of coming-of-age rite of passage that was important in mer culture. 

He couldn’t help but wonder what it would entail. The only coming-of-age ritual that he was familiar with was the one from his own kingdom, so it would be interesting to see a different custom. Hopefully it wouldn’t be as pointless as seeing the ocean had been. Although it was a stupid tradition, he was glad to have met Oabe and that he’d been able to save him. 

Sometimes, though, he wondered what his life would be like if he hadn’t met him. He would still be human, be with his grandfather, and be able to speak. And yet… it was unsettling to think that he would be a completely different person. How strange it was that a single decision could alter the course of someone’s life. 

The evening came that Oabe was bedecked in entirely different jewelry from usual, and was dressed in special ornamentation. As Yuri watched inquisitively from where he was lying in the sand of Oabe’s room, servants placed a massive headdress onto Oabe’s head. It was made from huge conchs that had pink interiors, large fronds of red-orange coral , and blue-green glass orbs that appeared to be old fishermen floats. Oabe’s thick mane was put into a simple bun at the back of his head, and all of his hair was covered with a net acting as a tight snood. Around his wrists were simple bracelets made from spherical coral beads. 

Guards came to escort Oabe away, and Yuri moved to follow them. But they blocked his path by crossing their spears. He tried to push past, but they forced him back. Oabe turned back and gave him a reassuring smile. Although he wished to go with him, Yuri stayed put while the guards guided Oabe away. 

Something didn't feel right in his gut. He peeked out of the doorway and watched his prince round a corner with a sinking feeling. He started restlessly doing laps around the bedroom, the pain almost taking his mind off of Oabe. He was incredibly anxious, although he wasn’t sure why. As he waited, he silently cursed. The sun had long gone down. Yuri tried to sleep, but found that he could not. He was too worried about his prince.

At long last he saw a dark form enter the room, and his heart leapt. But quickly his elation turned cold. Something was awfully wrong, he could tell from the way Oabe swam. His shoulders were hunched in, and he clutched his hands to his chest. He collapsed onto the sand beside Yuri, still wearing his massive headdress. He was facing away from Yuri. 

The moonlight streaming in from the window landed on Oabe’s back. There were strange, dark squiggly lines on it, especially in the shoulders area and over his dorsal fin. Yuri squinted to examine it closer, and gasped. He was almost certain that they were jellyfish stings. Suddenly, something clicked in his head. All of the adult mermen that he had seen had born these marks. He now knew that they were scars. The coming-of-age ritual must be some sort of test of bravery. 

Anger boiled up inside of Yuri as he glared at the fresh wounds, raw and painful-looking. Some blood clouded around them, appearing black in the dim light. How fucking dare they? This was completely barbaric. Yuri began to see mer culture in a different light. What was this supposed to prove? Anyone who wasn’t made of stone would express agony at such an injury being inflicted. Oabe was already reserved with his emotions, he didn’t need to bottle them up any more! 

Yuri wondered if he should fetch Spotty, but he realized that he had no idea where he resided. He felt so helpless. The tense muscles in Oabe’s shoulders were a clear indicator of his misery. As gently as he could, Yuri got up and swam so that he was in front of Yuri, then laid down and snuggled against his chest. He felt strong arms wrap around him, and then heard a muffled sob. 

Oabe didn’t utter a word, but he clung to Yuri more tightly than ever that night. Neither of them got a wink of sleep. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Oabe’s wounds scabbed over without further inflammation, and then formed scar tissue. Merfolk began to address him differently, with new respect gleaming in their fish-eyes. Oabe began to wear dissimilar clothing than before as well; he hardly ever wore his hair down at formal occasions anymore, which Yuri presumed was so that his scars were on full display. 

He realized that none of the other adult mermen he had seen usually had their hair loose either. He considered it a complete waste. Mers didn’t seem to get male pattern baldness like humans did, and they didn’t even know how lucky they were. However, Oabe would undo his buns and braids when they were in private so that Yuri could comb and play with his hair. 

Yuri took great joy in doing this, and relished their time together. As the days passed them by, Yuri’s adoration for Oabe grew and grew like one of the flowers in his garden. He was so kind, so gentle, so generous… Yuri considered himself blessed to get to spend time with him. Oabe still dutifully took time out of his busy schedule to teach Yuri mermish. 

Progress was easier now that he recognized some of the words from hearing them around the palace. When he discovered the word for “beautiful,” he pouted for the rest of the day. It was a term he’d constantly heard used to describe him. Most people would be pleased to discover this, but not Yuri. It was just more proof that nearly everyone saw him as a fancy object, just a pretty thing to look at. 

Oabe never called him “beautiful,” he said that he was intelligent and brave and fierce. While Yuri wasn’t sure that he believed that he was any of those things, it made him swell up with happiness to hear them, and made him love Oabe more fondly and deeply. Yet… he didn’t think that Oabe returned these feelings. He seemed to love Yuri, yes, but in the way that one would love a brother or a best friend. It hurt Yuri’s heart, but he wasn’t about to give up. 

They were swimming through the royal gardens together one day, when Yuri met Oabe’s gaze and tried to express with his eyes, “Do you not love me more than anyone else?” Oabe gave a small smile when he saw this, then delicately kissed Yuri’s cheek and took his dainty hand in his own firm one. He spoke quietly yet slowly and clearly, so that Yuri could understand. Yuri did his best to string the words that he did comprehend together into cohesive sentences, although he was certain that some of it was inaccurate. 

“You are very dear to me, Little-One-Who-Was-Found.” Yuri’s heart did a joyful jump at this. “From the moment that I first saw you, I thought that you had the eyes of a soldier. They showed that you were determined and courageous.” Yuri felt himself flush slightly, and looked down bashfully. Oabe released his hand, and they swam together in silence. 

“You remind me of a mermaid that I once met, but will never see again.” It took Yuri a moment to determine if he had said “always will,” or “never will.” Both sounded perplexingly similar. Oabe looked to Yuri to make sure that he had been understood, then kept going. “I went up to the surface alone one day to watch the sun set, but was captured.” Oabe’s brow was furrowed, his eyes narrowed as he remembered what had befallen him. “They made me fall unconscious, intent on stealing my parts to sell. By some miracle, I awoke in a temple. A beautiful mermaid had saved my life and taken me to it.” He sighed sadly. “She is the only person that I could ever love.” 

At first, Yuri thought that he had misinterpreted what Oabe had said. But then he realized that he hadn’t, and a nauseous feeling settled in his stomach. His heart felt like it was cracking in two, and it was infinitely more painful than the ache in his tail or losing his tongue had been. Oabe didn’t know at all that it was Yuri who had saved his life that night. Yuri had seen the gorgeous mermaid that Oabe loved better than him. He could still recall her pink lips and scarlet hair and lovely features. 

Yuri had foolishly believed in false hope. Oabe would never love him romantically, no matter how much he dreamed. Bitterness flowed through his veins, sickly and green. 

“However,” Oabe continued wistfully, “I believe her to be one of the priestesses of the temple. They vow to be celibate, and I shall never be with her.” Yuri was sad for Oabe. He knew what it was like to love someone and know that they would never love him back. Oabe deserved only happiness. But through his empathy, Yuri felt a terrible twinge of joy. 

Oabe would never see the mermaid again, while Yuri was with him every single day. Even if his affections would not ever be returned, he would take care of Oabe, be devoted to him, go through anything for his sake, and love him quietly for the rest of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sad chapter! Lemme know if you liked it <3


	10. Dusk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A neighboring king and his daughter visit, and everyone in the palace suspects that Oabe will soon become engaged.

A hearsay began to be spread throughout the castle, among the staff and visiting nobles alike. From what Yuri could understand, they all thought that Oabe was going to marry soon. They spoke of how since Oabe was now of age, he must take someone as his wife soon. The gossipping mers speculated that he would get engaged to the daughter of a neighboring king. 

From what Yuri could tell, anyways. It was only due to the fact that he had heard the story so many times that he knew as much as he did. It was everyone’s favorite topic of conversation: the gardeners, the servants, the chef; the only mer that Yuri hadn’t heard it from was Spotty. His disposition was far too sweet to talk behind anyone’s back. Besides, he was too busy giving blushy smiles to one of the dancers (the one with the downturned eyes) to care about much anything else, besides his work. 

Just when it seemed like the the rumor was dying out, it was made know that the king and his daughter would be visiting. Everyone was convinced that it was really so that Oabe could meet the princess, although it was announced as a friendly diplomatic visit between allies. Merfolk would often speak about the supposed match when Oabe was right there. His shoulders would visibly tense, and Yuri would glare at the offenders until they stopped. However, they would continue their conversation once they assumed that the two of them were out of earshot. 

In private, Oabe confided with Yuri on his opinion of the matter. He was gently playing with Yuri’s hair when he admitted that the visit was indeed taking place so that he could meet the princess. 

“My parents wish for us to be wed. It would help to form a strong bond between our countries,” he clicked sadly. “It is my duty. It will be impossible for me to love her, for she is not the mermaid who belongs to the temple.” 

Yuri tried to turn to look at him, but a hand softly guided his head back so that he was facing forward. Oabe was doing a plait in Yuri’s hair. When he was complete, Yuri felt him slide a shell bead onto the end to secure it. He peeked over his shoulder to be sure that Oabe was done, then got up and crawled beside him. 

Oabe’s expression gave no clue to what he was thinking, but his eyes were full of sorrow. Yuri kissed his cheek and then wrapped his arms around him. Oabe leaned against his chest. Yuri wondered if Oabe could hear his heart beating, racing at the contact they were making. Eventually they both lied down, and Yuri fell asleep. 

He dreamed of he and Oabe getting married. There were beautiful, twinkling lights, and somehow Viktor and Nikolai were there. Yuri was able to speak again, and he professed his love to Oabe. It felt so vivid, so real. When he awoke, he grieved the loss. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

The entire town that Oabe’s family ruled over was buzzing with activity like a hive of bees. Everyone was preparing themselves for the reception of the king and his daughter. There was food to capture and prepare, jewelry to buy, and decorations to set up. The list continued. 

Oabe was drilled with instructions on how to conduct himself in the presence of the princess and her father. Although he knew all of it already, he waited patiently every time he got the exact same lecture. He didn’t say anything out loud, but Yuri could tell that he was anxious and stressed. He hardly slept, no matter how much comfort Yuri tried to offer him. His flesh took on a grayish pallor, and bags developed under his eyes. It was obvious that he needed some kind of escape. 

And so, one afternoon, Yuri led a weary, fidgety Oabe out a back exit of the palace. Oabe seemed too tired to protest, so he followed along. Yuri took him to some coral reefs off of the shore. He hoped that the colorful, peaceful environment would provide Oabe with a much-needed respite from all of the hubbub. A seahorse nibbled on Yuri’s finger as he stopped to settle down in the sand. To his surprise, Oabe took his hand to bring him somewhere else. They stopped in a rather shallow area. 

Oabe swam up and pulled himself onto a rock sticking out of the water. Yuri joined him. Both of them stared in silence at the looming cliffs. Yuri was a bit shocked that Oabe would willingly come here, considering considering the ordeal that he had gone through last time he’d ventured too close to the beach. But he actually looked the most relaxed he’d been in weeks. He sighed deeply, eyes brimming with a thousand thoughts. The slanted light made him look much older and wiser than he actually was, Yuri observed. 

He reached out and took Oabe’s hand, hoping that his eyes would properly convey his question, “Are you alright?” 

“I’m sorry, Little-One-Who-Was-Found. I have been under so much pressure lately.” Oabe stared into the distance, eyes unfocused and glazed over. The surf crashed around the two of them, white spray fizzing as it dissolved and dripped back into the ocean. “The temple is nearby,” Oabe admitted. “Sometimes I think of visiting the mermaid, but then I decide that it is a bad idea and I do not.” Yuri squeezed his hand consolingly. “It would just hurt too much.” 

They sat there without a word for quite some time, and Yuri lifted his eyes to his old home. Nostalgia clung to his heart. 

“You’re not afraid of the land,” Oabe noted, changing the subject. It was clear that his mind was elsewhere. Yuri leaned his head onto his prince’s shoulder and listened to his descriptions about what mer explorers had discovered on tand. Little did Oabe know that Yuri was already quite familiar with the wondrous plants and creatures that lived there, 

It seemed to be soothing to Oabe to talk, and Yuri rather liked hearing him speak. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Seven days later, the king and his daughter arrived. It seemed like everyone in the entire kingdom was celebrating their coming. Mers paraded down the streets in their finest, playing strange musical instruments (some were just corroded metal buckets that had sunk to the ocean floor) and dancing gayly. Some were professional entertainers, but most were common folk. All had the same contagious enthusiasm. It felt like every single day was a festival. Everyone was invited to feasts of grandeur with delicacies only eaten on special occasions. 

Oabe was too nervous to really be be engaged in the revelry, although he assumed a tough facade. Yuri still noticed how his tail-tip kept twitching, and how his eyes kept flitting back and forth. Yuri tried his best to comfort him, but he seemed inconsolable. 

The royal family met the foreign king the very day that he got there, and he appeared to be old friend’s with Oabe’s mother. His mirthful eyes were hazel, and he had wild chestnut hair. His pudgy face turned red when he laughed, and his joy seemed infectious. The princess, on the other hand… There was apparently an antiquated custom where female progeny of leaders were introduced later than their parents. Yuri did not understand it one bit.

Yuri overheard that the princess had been educated in a temple, and had just recently returned. Everyone kept gushing about her great beauty, and Yuri would roll his eyes. It seemed like anyone with a lot of money or a high status was considered a “great beauty.” 

As the days passed, Oabe’s agitation mounted. He was normally so calm and level-headed under pressure that it was strange to see him this way. He didn’t eat very much at meals, and his hands started to shake. Yuri felt terrible seeing Oabe this way, but there seemed to be nothing that he could do to help. 

Finally, the time came for the princess to be presented to Oabe and his parents. Everyone wore nice jewelry and headpieces, but the servants not-so-sneakily adorned Oabe with more costly and ostentatious pieces. He was wearing a huge starfish crown accented with aquamarine sea-glass, and his hair was put into little twists and then pulled back in a bun. 

Wide, smooth bone earrings shaped like upside-down fish hooks were through his lobes, stretching them out. White-shell armbands circled around his biceps and triceps, and they were engraved with tiny designs. Around his neck and waist were looped about a dozen beach-glass necklaces, with small tan sea-stars at random intervals. Strung onto his tail was a polished shell bracelet with small pieces of smooth glass embedded in it, and attached to his tail were eight massive oysters to denote his rank. All in all, he was breathtaking. 

Oabe tried to create an imposing silhouette by lifting his chin and squaring his shoulders, but Yuri wasn’t fooled. Before the attendants let the princess in, he squeezed Oabe’s hand reassuringly. With a flourish, the double doors opened. Light streamed in, and the princess appeared as a dark shadow until his eyes adjusted. 

When he saw her clearly, he gasped. His heart started hammering in his chest in panic. It was the very mermaid that had found Oabe after Yuri had rescued him. The only one that Oabe said he could love. What a cruel twist of fate. 

Yuri begrudgingly admitted to himself that the rumors were true. She was beautiful. It was quite different seeing her during the day and out in the open than seeing her at night and half-submerged. Her skin was fair, and her scarlet hair floated around her like fire. Beneath her lush eyelashes were huge cornflower-blue eyes that shone with life. 

Once Yuri had broken free of his shock, he quickly looked over to see Oabe’s reaction. He was trying his best not to give his emotions away, but he couldn’t seem to hide his smile. Yuri could tell that he had never been happier. The introductions were formal and courteous, but he could see the princess and Oabe exchange side-glances. 

Afterwards, Oabe’s parents left, and it was just the three of them. The princess immediately swam up, grinning. She took his hands, blushing, and a tinge of pink appeared over his face as well. 

“It was you,” he murmured. “Who saved my life.” Yuri hung back, watching them. He felt ill. This couldn’t really be happening. Perhaps it was just a nightmare. But the pain in his heart when Oabe proposed that they be married in one week’s time was all too real. It was like Yuri’s heart was made of glass, forming a web of cracks. A single blow could shatter it into a million pieces. 

Yuri softly kissed Oabe’s hand as a gesture wishing him good luck, although he knew that the morning after his prince’s wedding would mark his own death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun duuuun


	11. Midnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding takes place, and Yuri dances more elegantly than he ever has before.

Although Yuri was determined to hate the princess, he found that he could not. He had every justification to; it was because of her that he was going to die. But her personality seemed impossible to despise. She was like a big sister to everyone, and she was constantly teasing him. It was light-hearted and playful, never malicious. 

She liked to prop herself up on his shoulder, or pinch his cheeks. Yuri glared at her, but she just ignored him or laughed. The princess loved to give hugs as well, which was a very strange trait for a royal mer to have. Her and her father both looked and acted differently from the inhabitants of Oabe’s kingdom. While the merfolk of this nation were generally more reserved, the two of them were more open. 

She wore different clothing, as well; it was more modest and less gaudy, but Yuri didn’t know if all the mermaids in her country adorned themselves less, or if it was due to her education at the temple. She often wore a piece of simple canvas wrapped around her back and crossing over her breasts, then tied at the back of the neck. Sometimes, she wore pink pearls in her hair, and a matching necklace and tail ring. She regularly also wore shining bone wrist cuffs. 

Her name was impossible to pronounce, so he called her Umia. It meant old woman, and so she started calling him a name that started with a click and then had “nnaa” following it. It meant little brother, specifically a bratty one. She found it hilarious, and Yuri found it exceedingly annoying. 

Oabe smiled whenever he saw their good-natured squabbling. He seemed bursting with joy lately. Yuri was happy for him, although the marriage meant his death.Oabe was hardly around anymore, busy making preparations. Yuri wanted to savor all the time that he had left with Oabe, but his prince usually seemed too busy for him. A few times, Yuri tried to go along with Oabe while he was arranging wedding plans. But he ended up just sitting there, unable to hold Oabe’s attention because he had too many things to attend to. 

It was too depressing that the precious time he had left wasn’t being spent with Oabe, and he felt guilty for distracting him, so he went back to their shared room. Soon, Oabe would be sleeping in it with somebody else. The thought made Yuri want to weep...

The betrothal had been announced the day after Oabe had made the proposal of marriage, and the wedding was to be held a week after that. The parties to honor the king and princess’ arrival simply continued without a pause, growing more jovial with every passing day. 

Umia’s friends from the temple arrived, and she greeted them with great zeal. They were all excited to be there and offered their congratulations. Umia asked them to officiate her wedding, and they agreed whole-heartedly. They sent for a servant to go back to the temple and return with their holy clothing. 

After Umia was finished speaking to them, she approached Yuri. He tried to escape, but she caught his wrist. She bit her plump, petal-pink lip and let go of Yuri to unfasten her pearl necklace. Yuri considered slipping away, but he didn’t. She handed it to Yuri with a friendly smile, and he reluctantly accepted it. It was a simple silver chain, with three round pearls the color of carnations strung onto it. The middle one was flanked by two smaller ones. They shimmered softly in the light. 

Umia reached out to help him put it on; he frowned and rolled his eyes, but allowed her to. She was very gentle, making sure that the clasp didn’t get snagged on his hair. He traced his fingers over beads. Although he would never admit it, the gift warmed his heart. 

Umia chirped cheerfully, then rubbed Yuri’s head. Then, in all seriousness, she asked him if he would play a role in the wedding. Yuri was unfamiliar with the exact word that she used pertaining to what he would do, and she must have seen the confusion on his face. 

“They bear the lantern that lights the couple’s way. They are a very important part of the ceremony.” Yuri tried to avoid her big sapphire eyes as he mulled this over, playing with the necklace. It would be terribly painful to guide the way so that the person he loved could marry another. But it would mean so much to Oabe and Umia… 

Yuri growled and huffed dramatically, but then begrudgingly nodded his head in consent. Umia was so happy that she scooped up a struggling Yuri and tried to carry him throughout the palace. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

At last, the day of the wedding arrived. The week leading up to it had been the shortest in Yuri’s life. He bitterly mused that it was funny how time flew when approaching one’s death. 

In a clearing in the kelp forest by the shore, large rocks had been arranged in a circle for all of the guests to sit on during the ceremony. Beautiful fish had been captured alive and were being held in nets to be released after the vows. Large, lovely conch shells with creamy outsides and rosy insides were placed around the ring. Once the sun began to set, each would contain a glowing stone. 

Yuri was tenderly helping Oabe get ready. The servants busily put jewelry on him, while Yuri relished having his hands in Oabe’s thick hair as he braided it. It would most likely be the last time that he’d do so. He was plaiting it in the style of how the people from his own country did theirs. He did tiny four-strand plaits that looped under Oabe’s ears, and various braids of different types over his head. 

Although he was going as slow as he could to savor it, all good things had to come to an end. He gently pulled all of the plaits back, then twisted them into an elegant bun and secured it with a pink shell comb. All of the ornamentation that he was wearing was the same color, from his peach-hued pearl earrings to his elaborate crown embedded with shells the color of peonies and coral fronds. 

Oabe looked like a vision from a dream, face glowing with vibrancy and bliss. Yuri grabbed the lantern he was going to use to light the way and left the room with him, and could tell he was feeling nervous. And so he squeezed his hand and offered the most comforting smile he could muster. Oabe returned it gratefully, then let go of Yuri’s hand and faced forward. He sucked a deep breath in through his gills, then lifted his chin. He looked more regal than ever, and Yuri’s heart swelled with bittersweet sentiment. Together, they left the castle and waited for the procession to form. 

Umia arrived, splendid in her cobalt coral diadem and midnight blue pearl earrings. Beach glass the color of the sky decorated her adornments, and one piece dangled on her brow. She even had a living sea slug perched on one of her shoulders, cerulean with navy stripes. Its feathery rhinophores poked around as it explored her skin. All of the blue brought out her eyes, and it contrasted with the scarlet of her hair and the reddish-gray of her tail. 

When she saw Oabe, her face lit up and she grinned. Yuri, heart aching, swam in front of them with his brilliant lantern in his hand. Behind the couple, the temple priestesses assembled, and behind them were Oabe’s family and Umia’s father. Yuri wondered if Umia had a mother. The guests joined the group, and then the servants. They also bore lanterns. The path to the clearing where the wedding would take place was lined with smooth, violet rocks that were luminescent; they were the same kind as the ones in the lanterns, only smaller. Yuri’s light illuminated the way like a guiding star. 

They were passing through a kelp forest, the talks looming far above them. Everyone in the cavalcade was silent and reverent as they swam. Yuri felt all of their eyes on him, but he ignored them and pressed forward. He almost felt numb to the pain in his tail. He was feeling pretty much numb in general, as if he were disassociating. 

They arrived at the glade, and Yuri swam to the other side of it and sat down on a rock. Umia had instructed him earlier on what he should do during the ceremony to properly play his role. The bride and groom entered as well, and stopped in the center of the clearing. The priestesses formed a circle around them. Everybody else filed in and seated themselves. 

Oabe and Umia took each other’s hands, flushing, and made eye contact. They were radiant under the soft lilac light, two halves of a whole. Yuri watched them with a pang of jealousy, wishing that he was in Umia’s place. He pictured himself staring into Oabe’s deep eyes, holding hands with him and about to say his vows. But it wasn’t so, and there was nothing that he could do. 

The temple mermaids started chanting in an old language that Yuri did not understand. They linked arms, then leaned in one by one and asked a question in that same ancient tongue. Umia answered half, then Oabe answered the rest. A priestess with a black-and-white striped tail kissed both of their cheeks, and then the circle broke apart. All of the temple maidens swam to the outskirts and sat down. 

Umia took the blue coral comb out of her hair, and Oabe did the same with his pink one. They traded them, then carefully slid them into each other’s buns. The pair then kissed, and Yuri felt so far away. The couple appeared blurry to him, and they looked otherworldly and ethereal bathed in the purple light. It was like he was viewing them as a distant memory. 

Gazing at the two of them, he reflected on all that he had lost. His station, his grandfather, his legs...And now what hurt the most. Oabe. His best friend, the one who he loved so completely. He was right there in front of him, and he was helpless to do anything but watch him marry another. 

Celebratory music began, but Yuri heard none of it. After what seemed like an eternity, the newlyweds’ lips parted. They seemed breathless. The net full of fish was opened, and dozens of shiny creatures in a rainbow of colors swam around the clearing. The guests began dancing merrily and stopping to congratulate the couple as they passed by. Yuri took all of this in, blinking slowly as if in a daze. He remembered that time so long ago when he had danced while the singers spun beautiful music. How Oabe had embraced him, how happy he had felt. 

Slowly, he rose and glided over to the crowd. He lifted an arm fluidly, and all who saw him stopped to stare. They cheered and clapped when he twirled. That night, he danced more gracefully than ever before. With every movement that his tail made, he felt like he was being stabbed by razor blades. But it didn’t matter anymore. Agony far worse had pierced his heart. 

Every chance he got, Yuri gazed at Oabe, who was waltzing exclusively with Umia. This was the last evening that he could do so. When he saw Oabe’s face, he was reminded why he had given up everything and stepped down from the throne. The time was running out that he could feel the current washing over him, that he could see the wonders all around him, that he could be close to Oabe. 

Everyone was full of jubilancy as they danced until well past midnight. Yuri actually laughed and let himself be whisked into spins and dips and sashays. Everything was a whirl, all dappled in violet. Absentmindedly, Yuri wondered what was in store for him after death. He’d been taught about heaven from a very young age, but he suspected that all that waited for him on the other side was blackness. A sleep stretching into infinity, without a dream or prayer. 

The party began to wind down, and mers began to leave. As they left, they gave well-wishes to the couple. Oabe kissed Umia, and the two of them swam off to the nearby cave that had been outfitted for their first mating. Yuri tried not to think about what that entailed, but he couldn’t help but imagine. His tears melted into the sea. 

Yuri sat there alone, amongst the tattered decorations. He was just waiting for the sun to rise. Umia had released the sea slug, and it inched its way over his tail. He gently stroked its soft body. Once it had passed over him, it slid onto a plant and soon disappeared. 

Yuri lifted his eyes to see if the sky had begun to lighten, and saw a strange silhouette. Because the sea wasn’t very deep in this area, the shape wasn’t too far above him. Curious, he swam up to see what it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who could it be?


	12. Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor tries to save Yuri's life by offering him a way out.

Yuri could soon tell that the odd shadow was being cast by a small rowboat. He broke the surface a ways from the craft, and pushed the wet hair out of his face. He squinted at the person in the boat, and gasped at what he saw. It was Viktor, there was no doubt about that. But his long, fairy-like, argent hair that had once looked like spun moonlight was gone. Instead, roughly chopped and uneven locks of hair stuck up all over his scalp. 

As if being tugged by some unseen force, Yuri moved closer. Viktor noticed him, and let go of his oars. If there hadn’t been oarlocks, they would have drifted away forever. He leaned over the side, arms outstretched, and the boat swayed dangerously. Yuri allowed himself to be embraced. 

“Yura, Yura,” Viktor whispered softly, and ran his hand down Yuri’s sopping hair as if to comfort him. “I went to see Yakov, and he told me everything.” He squeezed Yuri tightly. “I’m so sorry that you had to go through this alone.” Yuri sniffled, brow furrowed as the tears came fast. “I visited Yakov today, and he said that he sensed that your time was almost up,” Viktor murmured to him. “I cut off my hair, and he made this with it.” 

Reluctantly, Viktor let go of him and pressed something into his hands. Yuri took the object, and a shiver rolled down his spine when the moonlight struck it. It was a knife, as shiny and silver as Viktor’s hair had been. 

“Listen to me.” Viktor took his shoulders, and Yuri raised his eyes so that they met his pleading ones. “Before the dawn comes, you must plunge the knife into your merman’s chest and through his heart. Once the blood passes through your gills, you shall become a human once more, and you can return to our kingdom and live out the rest of your days.” 

Yuri lowered his eyes, heart fluttering. He could feel his pulse in his fingers and temples. 

“Please, please do this.” Viktor’s grip on his shoulders tightened. “Now hurry, the sky is already starting to grow lighter.” It was true, the firmament was fading from black to indigo in the East. “Our grandfather is very sick, he misses you so much. He won’t last much longer in the state he’s in.” Yuri felt his belly clench, and tears spilled from his eyes. “Please, please promise me,” Viktor sobbed. 

But Yuri could not, and he slipped beneath the waves with the weapon clutched to his chest. Above him, he could see the wavering shadow of Viktor’s arms, still outstretched. Yuri ignored the terrible feeling in his stomach and dived down to the seafloor. Heart racing and adrenaline coursing through his system, he approached the cave where Umia and Oabe were sleeping. Taking a deep breath, he entered. 

Yuri’s plan was to try and kill Oabe as quickly as possible before he could think, but he froze when his eyes rested upon the merman. Umia was snuggled into his chest as he laid there, perfectly at peace. Yuri glanced at the cruel, sharp knife, hands trembling, then to his prince. Oabe whispered his bride’s name as he dreamt. 

Yuri forced himself to lift the blade, and he poised it over Oabe. He moved to stab him, but his arm collapsed. He tried again, but he just couldn’t kill the man that he loved. Sobbing quietly, he threw the weapon. It floated down to the sand. Yuri kissed Oabe’s forehead, then turned to leave. He shot one last yearning, heartbroken glance at him and then swam out. From above, light was starting to filter down. 

Yuri pumped his tail until his head burst from the water. On the shore, he could make out the shape of Viktor’s rowboat. He turned to face the East, where the sun was beginning to rise above the horizon. The sky was a symphony of rosy pinks, golds, and lavenders. As his body began to shut down, he thought about the lullabies that Viktor used to sing to him when he was a child. About his grandfather’s worn hands. About his precious garden and the little plants within, and his cat’s sweet disposition. 

He remembered Oabe’s nickname for him, his smile, his touch. How kind Umia had been, even though she unknowingly had caused his death. As he considered all of these things, he smiled and stretched out his arms to embrace the warmth of the sun on his skin. The brilliant rays shone through his eyelids, and then vanished as everything turned dark. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Viktor looked out to sea, restless. He prayed and prayed that Yuri had gone through with it and turned back into a human. His eyes were red and swollen and puffy from crying, and the salt air burned them. He shivered in the morning chill, pulling his robes more tightly around himself. The sky was already light, and Viktor could see the sun coming up above the sea. It climbed in the sky, dissolving the cold mist. 

Viktor waited, hoping, and it was excruciating not to know. Was his Yura alright? He had to be okay, and Viktor refused to accept anything else. But time dragged on, and Viktor had to pull up his hood to protect against a sunburn. The fabric felt so strange against his head. He felt like a sheep that had been shorn of its fleece. 

He stood up, legs wobbling from sitting for so long. Carefully, he scanned the beach to see if Yuri had swam to shore. There was nothing to his right, but… A huddled shape was lying in the sand. Heart hammering, Viktor jumped off of the rock. The impact hurt his knees, even though he’d landed on soft sand, and he began to run. A dreadful feeling began to settle in his belly as he drew nearer. No… It just couldn’t be. This had to be a nightmare.

But it became undeniable that the form was Yuri. His golden hair was wet, knotted, and wrapped around his body. His eyes were closed, and his striped tail was limp and tangled in tendrils of seaweed. Viktor's heart dropped, and several glittering tears dripped from his eyes. If he still had a tail, then that meant… 

Viktor fell to his knees and desperately tried to shake Yuri awake. 

“Please, please,” he whispered. But Yuri didn't budge. Viktor watched his chest for breathing, checked his wrist for a pulse. Nothing. Weeping, he lifted up his dear cousin and cradled him in his arms. Yuri Plisetsky was dead. 

As the sun beat down on them, Viktor rocked his Yuratchka back and forth and sang him broken lullabies.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Down in the sea, Oabe and Umia had awoken. Arm in arm, they blissfully started making their way back to the palace. Oabe wondered where Little-One-Who-Was-Found had gone, but figured that he had gone to their room to sleep. However, he wasn’t there when they arrived. Panic rising, Oabe and Umia looked in all of the places than the little mermaid could be. Frantically, they scoured the castle from the top floors to the bottom ones, and then looked on the royal grounds. They then swam through the streets of the town, calling out his name and having to push through throngs of well-wishers. 

He was simply gone, as if he had vanished. Desperate, Oabe ordered search parties to be sent out. He feared that Little-One-Who-Was-Found had been kidnapped to be held as ransom, but no demands were ever made. Everyone looked for months, but they all turned up empty. Oabe was filled with sorrow, but he had Umia there to comfort him. They held a funeral for the little merman, although no body was located. 

Together, Umia and Oabe tried their best to continue living their lives. They had many litters of mer-pups together, and they all loved their parents dearly. Oabe always thought that they would have liked Little-One-Who-Was-Found like an uncle. Umia and Oabe became wise and fair leaders, and grew old and gray together. 

The little merman never returned. He had left as out-of-the-blue as he had appeared. Oabe always missed him deeply, and never forgot his dear friend with the expressive eyes. 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked this, I'm very glad you did and thank you. Congratulations on making it through, haha

**Author's Note:**

> Would love to hear what you think! I worked super hard on this. 
> 
> A big thanks to all of the people that helped beta for this. Izzybee92, hopefullyanauthor, weirdbird, otayuriistheliteralbest, theinsanefox, and voidglasses. I wouldn't have been able to do it without your support and help!
> 
> My artist is Meijiatron! Go check her out, her tumblr is meijiatron.tumblr.com , and mine is joelsweet.tumblr.com .


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